Summer
by AmaliaIR
Summary: Harry, Hermione, and Draco learn that you cannot escape from reality, just enter into a different one. Draco x Harry x Hermione triad fic.
1. Solstice

**Chapter One: Solstice**

The first time she saw him him the sun was barely out.

Hermione was sitting on the sand, letting the water that reached the shore soak her feet and slowly bury them. She couldn't sleep past four am, the walls of the living room suddenly too small, too close, too daunting. So she ran outside and started crying, and through her tears she swore she could see Fred's smile and Tonks' magenta hair. Next to her Lupin was waving and Lavender seemed too preoccupied with her hair. Colin was just taking photos, like always. Photos of the pink sky, photos of the sea, photos of the mist that surrounded them. And then, beyond all that, there was Draco Malfoy.

Hermione blinked back tears and rubbed her eyes. Malfoy wasn't supposed to be there; he didn't belong in her memories of the deceased. But there he was, standing in the distance looking at the waves, his hands in his pockets and his white-blond hair moving with the breeze. He was blurry and hazy like the rest of them, but he wasn't looking at her, and Hermione sobbed harder, big fat tears streaming down her eyes and landing on her hands. She was sure she must be losing her mind, so she forced her eyes shut and lay back on the sand, trying to erase all images from her mind.

She woke up hours later in the sofa, most likely thanks to Harry who was sleeping on the carpet transfigured as a mattress on the floor next to her. She started to think that it had all been a dream and her eyes were swelling up again, so she took Harry's hand and tried to fall asleep, hoping they would wake up together in a moment when the air would be easier to breathe.

The first time he saw him the sun was burning bright in the middle of the sky.

Harry was floating in the sea, feeling the skin of his face stinging from too much sun, but he still couldn't be bothered to leave. The water was cool and soothing around his body, rocking him back and forth and allowing his mind to focus on the external feelings and nothing else, because anything else would make Harry remember, and he didn't want to remember. Not when the sun was so graciously blinding him while the waves took him far away, all surrounded by water where his body didn't feel so heavy with memories.

Only, he didn't want to go too far away, because that would mean leaving Hermione behind and Harry couldn't do that. He started to panic suddenly, scrambling to look around and find the shore and the house. The sun was mercilessly blazing, and combined with the salt water it made his eyes hurt, but eventually he managed to make out the outline of Fleur's family summer cottage in the distance and he relaxed somewhat. It was far, the sea had taken him very deep and he couldn't touch the ground, but thankfully Harry knew how to swim, so he started to go back.

After a few strokes, he stopped in his tracks, only moving his arms and legs to stay above the water. He saw someone standing by the shore, but it wasn't Hermione and it wasn't close to the house. The person was on the opposite side, almost where the beach ended. It was still very hard to see and the light reflecting on the near-white sand made it impossible for Harry to detail this person, but the few things that he could make out made his heart thump fast. It looked like Malfoy, but it couldn't be him. Why would Draco Malfoy be there?

Unless. Harry's heart really sped up now, his mind racing with possibilities, each one worse than the last. They had found their location somehow and had come for them. Harry didn't have his wand on him and Hermione was alone in the house, completely unaware that an attack was imminent. He started swimming again, forcing his body to go as fast as possible, not caring about the water in his eyes and mouth, and not stopping until he could feel the sand under his toes. He finally looked up again, expecting to find Malfoy at the entrance of the house, holding a wand to Hermione's temple, but he was shocked to see that no one was there. Harry didn't stop swimming and running with difficulty as his eyes trailed across the shore all the way to the end of the beach and back, but it was all empty. He finally reached the shore and collapsed on his knees, coughing and fighting for breath as his head pounded painfully.

He thought he heard Hermione call his name, but it might have been another hallucination, so he didn't look up until he felt her arms around him.

"Harry." She pushed his hair out of his face and slapped him on the back to help with his coughing fit. "You're burning up. I think you might be having a heatstroke, we need to get you inside now."

Hermione helped him up and walked him back towards the house. Harry wasn't worried about his temperature or the fact that his entire body was hurting, though. Right before crossing the threshold to the house, he looked over his shoulder at the beach, and when Hermione closed the door, it all went black.


	2. Heat

**Chapter Two: Heat**

Sometimes the nights would drag on forever, heavy with summer heat and unspoken conversations. Harry would sit in the kitchen with a tall glass of ice water that always left water rings on the table. Hermione made mental notes of covering them up before Fleur's family returned, but she had forgotten when that was supposed to happen. She felt like she had been living there with Harry for ages, but the summer had just started and Ron had only left a couple weeks ago.

Hermione wondered if Ron was enjoying the weather in Romania. She wondered if something had helped him feel normal again; maybe Charlie, maybe the dragons, maybe being away from it all so he could heal. She should have followed his steps. She should have selected another country, completely at random, and started over there by herself.

But she knew that Harry didn't want to be alone. He would have understood if she had left, just like they understood Ron doing so, but meanwhile she had decided to stay with him. Close, but not too close. Not at Grimmauld Place or The Burrow, where the walls seem to drip memories like open wounds. They needed somewhere fresh and new, so Fleur offered them her family's summer cottage in the South of France, which sounded perfect in theory; it was right on the beach, completely isolated, and the sun shone all the time.

Hermione thought the sea would help them heal. They could talk and cry about what happened, walking along the shoreline and working together to move on. But so far, the summer had only made things worse. It was as if they were stuck on time, forced to keep thinking about those who weren't there and never quite leaving them behind, as if they were constantly running underwater. She knew that Harry was probably hurting the most and she needed to take his hand and help him forward, but she had stumbled upon a reality in which she was in no condition to help, and they were both being dragged by the waves and pushed right back where they started.

She walked over to him and placed a hand on his burnt forehead. "You're still a bit hot. I'll get some salve for your skin, but you need to drink your water."

None of them had said a word for hours, and her voice was loud to her own ears. Harry drank more water while she grabbed the jar of ointment for burns. Harry's whole skin was red, which was even more worrying given his natural dark colour. It looked better than yesterday when she found him, but it still needed to be taken care of.

Hermione returned and stood in front of Harry, who finished the last of the water and put the glass down. She reached for his arms and signaled for him to hold them up while she carefully removed his t-shirt. He winced at the fabric grazing his skin, but then he sat up straighter and opened his legs so Hermione could step in closer. She started applying the salve to his chest and shoulders, careful not to rub his skin too hard. Harry closed his eyes and she took the opportunity to spread the soothing gel on his face too. He spent so much time floating with his eyes closed, that even his eyelids were burnt. She traced a delicate finger down his nose, cheeks, and then over his chapped lips.

Hermione had spent a lot of time with Harry over the years, and even during that period last year when Ron left them in the Horcrux hunt, she had never really paid attention to him up so close until now. She dipped the fingers of her other hand in the salve and passed both hands over his jaw and chin, feeling the stubble prickle the pads of her fingers. She massaged him softly on the temples and then dropped her hands to his neck and them to his stomach, covering Harry's entire front with the cool salve.

"I forgot your ears," she whispered and rubbed each with one hand. Harry opened his eyes. She didn't remember them being so green.

He smiled and she thought that it must have been the first time in days. "Thank you."

Hermione smiled back and then walked around him to put some salve on his back too, even though it wasn't as bad as his front. Suddenly Harry's shoulders were shaking and Hermione's heart dropped, thinking he was crying. She rushed to kneel in front of him only to discover that he was laughing.

Somehow it didn't calm her down, and the worry grew bigger in her mind that he might be going crazy. "Harry, are you alright?"

Harry nodded, still bent forward laughing. Hermione couldn't help smiling a bit. If he was going crazy, then she might have to follow him into insanity.

"I just-" Harry struggled to speak. "I just can't believe I burnt my whole front body by floating in the water for hours," he laughed some more and Hermione had to contain her amusement. "I'm so thick!"

"You're not thick," Hermione said, even though her voice was laced with mirth. "You're just...You're just..."

She couldn't find the right words and it made Harry laugh even harder, so she gave up and started laughing with him as well.

Harry wiped the corners of his eyes and shook his head. "I was really out of it."

"Well, I know how that feels," Hermione replied, still smiling.

"No, but really," Harry said. "I even started hallucinating before you found me."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "You never told me that."

"Well, no. But now that I think about it, if I hadn't thought I was seeing _Draco Malfoy_ on the beach, I might not have tried to return. Maybe I would have kept floating and ended up in an island somewhere." He snorted.

Hermione's heart stopped. Had she heard him correctly?

"D-Draco Malfoy?"

Harry shook his head disbelievingly. "I know, I must have been absolutely gone. I thought he had come to attack us."

Harry was still smiling and he hadn't noticed Hermione's shocked expression. "How would he even know we're here? I clearly wasn't thinking."

Of all the things that Harry could have hallucinated, was it too much of a coincidence that it was Draco Malfoy? The same person she thought she saw a few days ago in the beach too? It had been normal for her to see the faces of the people that died in the war, especially if she was sleep deprived or thinking about them for too long. But Malfoy had never appeared before, and in the end she had attributed the whole thing to a dream.

But now...

"I saw him too," she said softly.

Harry didn't seem to have heard her and he only frowned.

"Harry, I saw Malfoy on the beach too."

It was terrifying watching the way Harry's sunburnt face paled considerably second by second.

"When?" he asked, his voice unnervingly low.

Hermione sat on the floor, needing to ground herself. "The other day when you found me sleeping there. I thought it was a dream, but now that you say this... He did look slightly different from the others."

"The others?"

She opened her mouth and then closed it quickly. She had never told Harry that she would spend days without sleeping and then see people she knew weren't there. It wasn't a good sign, but she didn't worry too much, it would probably go away on its own.

"Fred. Colin. Tonks," Hermione felt a big knot in her throat and she had to bite her own tongue to keep from crying. Harry looked scared upon her revelation. "It's nothing, I read it's normal. It's a way of coping, I guess."

Harry nodded weakly, obviously not wanting to talk about them any longer.

"But Malfoy was never there until the other day. Do you think... It was real?"

They looked at each other for a moment before Harry shrugged. "What's the other possibility? A spell? A curse? What would make both of us see Malfoy on separate occasions?"

Hermione thought for a second. As far as she knew there was nothing that would cause such a specific condition to develop, and she and Harry hadn't seen anyone else except Ron for almost a month. Something didn't feel right.

The look she saw on Harry's face was one that she didn't think she would see again so soon. He didn't like what was happening, that much was clear, but there was also a determination that took Hermione back to the days before the war.

Harry stood up abruptly. "We need to strengthen the wards, and then take turns guarding outside. The sightings weren't so far apart, so if he's around we will probably see him again soon." Harry went into the living room and picked up their wands from the flower vase where they kept them. "I know we have stopped relying on the wands so much, but I think we need to keep them close again just in case."

He shoved Hermione's wand into her hand and kept pacing. "Harry, don't get so worked up, you're still weak from yesterday. "

"You need to let me know if you leave the house like the other day. I'll take the first guard, you can get started with the wards."

Hermione shoved her wand in the pocket of her pajama bottoms, took a big dollop of salve in her hand and walked over to Harry, knowing he wasn't listening much right now. When he turned his back to her, she started massaging him with the salve. He was startled for a second before he relaxed and leaned into her touch.

"I'll get started on the wards, but there's no way you're taking the first shift. You need to let your body rest."

Harry nodded softly. "But you let me know if you get tired. We need to make sure we're not hallucinating this time."

Hermione felt a shiver down her spine and she stuck her hand in her pocket, gripping her wand. She had managed to sleep the night before, so she was probably not going to be seeing things tonight, but what if she did? What if Malfoy appears again and she can't tell if he's real or not?

"Alright."

After Harry went to sleep ("I'm taking the sofa, the bedrooms are too far from you Hermione!") she changed clothes, put on shoes that she hadn't touched since they got there, and packed water and snacks for her night guard.

She was afraid that not using her wand for two weeks had made her rusty, but Harry did a good job of assuring her she'd be "as brilliant as always."

Hermione secured the wards around the house and then she settled on the sand, not too far from the house, but she figured that if Malfoy was going to appear, it would be on the beach like the other two times.

If he was real, that is.

It was hard not feeling a bit paranoid now that she knew that an enemy could be close by.

Hermione bit her tongue. Was Malfoy an enemy? He certainly wasn't a friend, but after everything that happened during the Battle of Hogwarts and after, she didn't really consider him an oppositional force, much less evil. She was sure Harry didn't either, especially after he saved Malfoy's life and after Narcissa saved Harry's.

But if he really was somewhere around, his motives couldn't be anything but malicious, could they?

The night dragged on slow and steady, with only the sound of each wave as a measure of passing time, as Hermione had forgotten a watch or clock. After a while, she stopped being afraid that Malfoy would show up and she started worrying that the ocean would swallow her whole, the waves reaching closer and closer to her feet until she had to move.

The sun greeted her again, warm and soft as always, and it occurred to her that she had seen many sunrises but barely no sunsets since she was there. She also hadn't read any books in a while. Initially she had thought that books would just give her an unhelpful distraction while she was trying to focus on feeling better, but now she just had no idea what she would even read. Hermione had always pictured herself as someone who would read anything that could possibly help, but if someone told her there was a book with specific instructions on how to move on, she didn't think she'd believe anything it said.

Hermione waited until the sun was fully out before walking back into the house. Harry was fast asleep but awoke when Hermione closed the door behind her.

He seemed alarmed for a second until he realized it was just her, safe and sound. He smiled sleepily, hair a mess and shirt forgotten on the floor.

"All good?" he asked.

Hermione smiled. "Perfect."

.

Harry stood guard all morning while Hermione slept, but she dragged him inside at noon to keep him out of the sun for a while and eat lunch. Still, Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from the window, and even though he knew Hermione was more reasonable than him, he could tell his paranoia was rubbing off on her; she was twitchy and alert, and she obviously needed more sleep.

"If I agree to put on that awful-smelling sunblock you brought, would you let me stand guard the rest of the day while you sleep?"

Hermione stopped drying the dishes when she heard Harry speak. "Awful? It smells like coconut!"

"I don't think I like coconuts." Harry shook his head. "If I knew a spell that could protect me from the sun I'd use it, but I'm willing to slather that thing all over me if it will make you sleep peacefully."

It also took a cap, sunglasses, and a two-liter bottle of water, but in the end Hermione agreed.

And so they fell into a routine. Hermione took the night shift at midnight, then they cooked, ate, and talked until noon, when she went to sleep and Harry took over. Repeat.

Harry didn't know if it was the adrenaline of thinking someone was after them, or maybe the sense of purpose, but for the first few days he felt better than he had felt in months.

That is, until a week and a half went by and there was no sign of Malfoy whatsoever.

Now he was constantly tired of being under the sun, even if his skin was healed. He missed Hermione and he would probably go crazy if he had to spend another day without talking to anybody.

Besides, they had to start facing the possibility that they both had a very strange vision of Draco Malfoy and no way to explain it.

Harry woke up earlier than usual that morning, with a clear feeling of having enough. Hermione was still outside when he looked out the window, the sun softly painting her silhouette in shades of pink.

He closed the front door rather loudly to announce himself and not scare her. She looked over her shoulder and smiled faintly.

"Good morning," he said while sitting down next to her.

"Good morning. Couldn't sleep?"

He shook his head. They watched the sunrise quietly for a while. Harry hadn't seen a sunrise in a long time.

"Another sunrise, another day," Hermione sighed. "I love sunrises, though."

Harry nodded. He thought he preferred sunsets himself, but this one was quite lovely.

"I think it's time to stop." He knew he didn't have to specify what he meant. If he knew Hermione as well as he thought, she had probably been thinking the same for a while and had only continued for Harry's sake.

She nodded, a small understanding smile playing on her lips. The sun was deep orange now, and the light made her dark skin glow beautifully. Harry leaned his head on her shoulder, feeling comforted immediately just by being close. They'd been so distant during the last few days.

"Have you ever gone fishing?" Harry asked.

Hermione snorted at the random question. "No. Why?"

"I'd like to go fishing." Harry remembered the times when they used their magic to capture fish and eat something while horcrux hunting. "Without magic."

"We could see if there's any equipment in the house," she suggested.

Perhaps it'd be good for them to have some sort of hobby and occupy themselves with something nice rather than obsess over something that probably wasn't even real.

"Plus, I sort of miss your burnt fish," Harry added as he moved away from her, preparing himself for her rage.

Hermione gasped. "How dare you!"

She threw wet sand at his head but Harry ducked just in time and counterattacked with his own fistful of wet sand, which barely missed her hair. If he had gotten sand on her curls he was pretty certain he'd be dead.

"You're dead, Harry Potter."

After an hour-long battle, he knew he would never be able to remove the sand completely from some places, but it was worth the good memory they created.


	3. Blaze

**Chapter Three: Blaze**

The Delacour's cottage had been built at least two centuries ago, if Hermione's calculations were correct. The main parts of the house were in fine condition, renovated by magic and kept relatively modern, but it was obvious that this was merely a vacation house that nobody bothered to maintain or clean in depth. The attic was filled to the brim with moldy objects and the closets had a foul, stale smell. After some digging around, Harry and Hermione found a bunch of defective fishing rods that Hermione guessed had been bewitched at some point. They were able to repair two and decided to go fishing that afternoon before the sun went down, so Hermione slept all day before then.

She woke up in a haze, the last thing she remembered was falling asleep with Harry's hands on her hair. The living room was empty, as well as the kitchen.

"Harry?" She rubbed her eyes and sat up, her heart dropping to her stomach when she didn't hear a reply. Harry was never too far without letting her know. There was a lingering thought that they had become too dependant on each other, but she pushed it to the back of her mind for now.

She opened the front door and checked outside, but Harry wasn't there. She then knocked on the door of the small bathroom that was next to the living room, the one they'd been using since they stopped sleeping on the bedrooms. Hermione rushed to the coffee table to grab her wand, her senses heightened in alert, before walking carefully up the stairs. The wood creaked under her bare feet and she wished she had shoes on in case she needed to run.

The first bedroom was empty, as well as the alcove, but then Hermione heard something coming from the end of the hall and she relaxed somewhat when she realized it came from the bathroom. Still, she approached slowly and checked the other bedrooms on the way.

She heard the water running and wondered why was Harry showering there instead of the bathroom downstairs. She was about to knock to make sure he was alright but stopped in her tracks when she heard something that made her heart drop again, but in a different way.

A moan.

Immediately she knew she should turn away and leave, but her feet seemed glued to the floor. She felt her face get hot when images of what could be happening behind the door flooded her mind and she understood then why Harry decided to use a more private bathroom.

Hermione tried to fight the urge to lean in closer to the door, she really did, but the curiosity was too big and her body seemed to have a mind of its own now. There was a heat inside her that she hadn't felt in a _long_ time and she didn't even stop to think about the fact that it was Harry who had inadvertently caused it.

Another moan. A gasp.

She finally snapped back and realized that she shouldn't be there, walking away quickly but carefully. The last thing she needed was Harry to find out she had heard him doing that.

Logically, she was aware that Harry probably did it from time to time, like everybody. But she never really thought about it, much less in an erotic sort of way. Sure, Harry was gorgeous and they were very close, but he was her friend.

Had she just called Harry gorgeous?

She made herself some tea and sat down at the kitchen table, trying not to think about what happened. Harry came back down a while later, hair wet and an air of calm about him. Hermione hoped she wasn't blushing.

"Ready to go fishing? I hope we catch something for tonight, I'm starving." Harry squeezed her shoulder as he walked past her and she couldn't help but wonder if he used the same hand as-

"Yes, I'm ready. Let's go."

She almost sprinted out the front door and to the ocean, suddenly in dire need of some fresh air.

.

Fishing was definitely not as easy as Harry had thought, and he wasn't even sure that there were any fish at this time of the day, but they tried for a good while, waiting patiently like Hermione said it was done.

"What canned food should we have for dinner tonight?" Harry asked only half joking.

Hermione shrugged, clearly frustrated with not achieving something she knew how to do theoretically. "Maybe we need a different kind of bait."

Harry dropped his rod and leaned back on the sand, closing his eyes.

"Harry, take it! What if you catch one and miss it?" Hermione said while turning to the side to look at him.

"Sorry Hermione, but I don't think-"

"Harry," she interrupted in a whispered voice. "Stay calm."

The first thing Harry did was open his eyes. He found Hermione looking at her left, eyes fixed on the far end of the beach and his heart started pounding like crazy.

"Look carefully to your left and tell me if you see him too."

Harry was almost afraid of what the answer will be because he didn't know what would be worse. He turned his head slowly to the left and almost gasped when he saw Draco Malfoy, sitting on the beach facing the ocean.

"I see him," Harry exhaled and he felt Hermione tense up. "Have you got your wand?"

"I do."

Harry wanted to say something about how, like him, Hermione also hadn't given up her wand again just in case. But there wasn't time.

"Drop the fishing rod and grab onto me," he told her, still not tearing his eyes away from Malfoy. He took a hold of his own wand inside the pocket of his swimming trunks.

As soon as he felt Hermione's strong grip on his arm, Harry disapparated them.

.

Harry's feet barely touched the ground before he launched himself on Malfoy, effectively pinning him to the ground in one motion.

"What the _fuck_!"

Hermione was standing, her wand pointed at Malfoy's head, and they both stared at their enemy as his face went from utter shock to boredom surprisingly quickly.

"I should have known only _you_ would show such a tasteless display of brutality. Get the fuck off me, Potter!"

Hearing Malfoy spat his name like that was almost nostalgic.

Harry gripped Malfoy's wrists harder. "Not until you tell me what you are doing here, Malfoy."

Malfoy turned his head to the side then, looking at Hermione up and down before settling on her wand. If she hadn't been wearing a swimsuit, Harry wouldn't have thought anything of it, but Malfoy seemed almost… appreciative?

Malfoy turned back to look at Harry with a sneer. "Granger's got her wand to my head. Isn't that enough? How am I supposed to escape?"

Harry looked up briefly at Hermione, who nodded curtly before settling on Malfoy again.

Harry let go of Malfoy and stood up, his wand now also trained on him.

"Answer us. What are you doing here?" Hermione asked him again.

It struck Harry as odd that Malfoy wouldn't want to stand up, be on the same level as them, or even taller for that matter. But he remained seated, shrugging and looking at the sea again.

"What does it look like? I'm at the beach. Can't a bloke go to the bloody beach without getting arrested?"

Harry wanted to say that no, not when the bloke was someone like him, but Hermione spoke first.

"Why this beach?"

Malfoy sighed, apparently accepting the fact that they will not leave him alone. "Because it's nicer than the one on the other side of the hill, where my family's holiday house is."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other with equally confused frowns. "Fleur said that no one lived around here," Hermione said.

"She did mention a house, but it was abandoned, wasn't it?" Harry asked and Hermione nodded.

"It _looks_ abandoned to anyone who isn't allowed through the wards. It's called magic," Malfoy drawled condescendingly and Harry almost hexed him just for that.

"Are we supposed to believe you're here on a family vacation, then?" Harry narrowed his eyes at him, inspecting him for any signs of lying. It was only then that he noticed the curious way in which Malfoy was dressed; with a long-sleeved blue turtleneck and cream colored trousers. No skin exposed except for his hands and face, he was even wearing shoes.

"No Potter," Malfoy said with more malice than before, even looking up at Harry. "My parents are on house arrest, remember?"

Harry did remember, he was at the trial after all.

"So you're alone, then?" Hermione questioned him again, her stance a little less defensive now.

"I would be if you two tossers graced me with your absence!"

Harry saw that Hermione's lip twitched at Malfoy's words. He would be amused too if still didn't have a million questions. "We saw you on two separate occasions before today. You were clearly aware of our presence and then you stopped showing up. Why appear now, in broad daylight where we could clearly see you?"

Malfoy was getting more restless by the second, and when he finally made a move to stand up, Harry followed him up with his wand. He was taller than what Harry remembered and some random information about boys' growth spurt that undoubtedly came from Hermione popped into his mind for a second.

Malfoy's jaw was set tightly as he looked from Harry to Hermione. "I noticed there were people around when I came here and I ventured out to find out who. I saw Granger first and I assumed she wasn't alone." Harry knew that Hermione was probably remembering that time she saw him, among the faces of people who were no longer there. Harry felt a painful pang at the thought, but then Malfoy continued. "Then I saw Potter so I thought the whole trio was here, but Weasley never showed up and neither did anyone else for days. I assumed it was safe for me to show my face out in the open. Apparently not."

Harry almost felt guilty. _Almost._

He opened his mouth to retort but he closed it when he noticed Hermione lowering her wand. He turned to look at her, already knowing what she was going to say. "We have to let him go, Harry."

"But, Hermione-"

"He's not doing anything. We have no choice."

Hermione was right, of course, but that never made Harry feel better.

He lowered his wand reluctantly and watched Malfoy relax his shoulders before taking a step back, hands in his pockets. He looked at Hermione and then at him, and Harry did his best to send him a look to let him know that they'll be watching him. Malfoy rolled his eyes and disapparated before Harry even had a chance to be offended.

Hermione took his hand. She was warm. "Keeping an eye on him it's the best we can do for now."

Harry nodded and let Hermione lead him back, walking along the shoreline quietly until they reached the fishing rods they'd left behind.

"Harry, look!" Hermione was pointing to one of the reels that was spinning wildly, something clearly pulling the line.

She let go of Harry's hand and picked up the rod, trying to reel it back with difficulty. "It's too strong!"

Harry stepped in behind her and took a hold of the handle with both hands. "I take this, you just try to bring it back with both hands."

She nodded and let go of the rod, simply focusing her strength on reeling the line as fast as possible. The fish was putting up a fight, and it had clearly been pulling the line for a while before they got there, because it took them a long time before finally something appeared through the waves.

It was slightly disappointing to see that it was not as big as Harry had imagined, but it was a decently sized, plump, silver fish with green highlights where the light of the sun hit it. It would be enough for the two of them to eat.

Hermione held it up with a proud smile. "We caught it!"

.

From that day on, they saw Malfoy every day. He was usually at the same place, standing or sitting in front of the sea, wearing similar outfits, and not doing anything for hours at the time until he eventually left, usually walking. It was nothing short of strange, and it drove Hermione crazy with curiosity. She and Harry walked over the hill that separated them from Malfoy's house once, and it was true that it looked completely abandoned. It wasn't that big, but it was still twice the size of their cottage.

Even more strange was the fact that most nights, when Hermione still couldn't sleep, she had also seen Malfoy in the distance, looking like a tall lighthouse with his pale skin reflecting off the moonlight.

Every time it happened, Hermione would walk back into the house to wake Harry up, and they sat outside together, coming up with theories about their mysterious schoolmate.

"What if his parents disowned him and he has nowhere else to go?" she asked, her head on Harry's lap as he braided her hair.

He hummed. "What if the reason they disowned him is because Greyback bit him and he's now a werewolf?"

Hermione gasped and then frowned. "Wait, can't be. The full moon was three days ago." She chuckled a bit. "Is he still there?"

"Yes. He's staying later than usual isn't he?"

"Does he ever sleep?" Hermione wondered.

Harry huffed a disbelieving laugh. "Says the girl who hasn't slept straight through a night in years. You know, I hear you when you wake up, but I don't always have the energy to follow you."

"That's because you spend the entire day outside on the sun. I'd be exhausted too."

Harry was quiet for a moment, and Hermione closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his fingers working through her curls.

"I find days easier to deal with. At night there's nothing to keep me from thinking too much, it's like everything's out in the open."

Hermione felt a little sick thinking about all these nights when she had woken Harry up just to stare at Malfoy together for hours. She knew Harry wouldn't complain, but she might have been unknowingly forcing him to deal with his fear of nights. And she knew that fear too well. "I feel the same about days," she said, even though Harry had realized it already. "The clarity of the sun doesn't let me forget."

They remained like that for a while longer, and Malfoy was there as well. In a way, he felt much closer than what he actually was. Hermione had weirdly become accustomed to his existence in the not too distant proximity.

"We should go to sleep," she said in a low voice. They usually waited until Malfoy was gone to leave themselves, but at this point it was more of a custom than anything else, and she didn't want Harry to keep missing sleep like she did. "I think my insomnia has calmed down."

"Really? We might even manage to be on the same time line for a while," Harry joked before finishing her braid.

It wasn't a perfect night of sleep, and Hermione woke up several times, the urge to go outside making her body shake. But she thought of Harry and how he had gone through many hours of the night awake with her, she could at least try to sleep now so she could accompany him during the day too.

Before falling asleep again she wondered if Malfoy was still awake.


	4. Blisters

**Chapter 4 - Blisters**

"Harry, I was thinking…" Hermione trailed off as she finished saving the leftover toast from breakfast.

Harry wiped the last crumbs from the table. "Yes?"

Hermione bit her cheek. She had wanted to tell Harry about her idea for a while now, but she wasn't sure how he'd react. "I was thinking we should invite Malfoy for tea."

Harry looked at her strangely, his head cocked to the side. Hermione could usually predict Harry's behavior, but when it came to Malfoy, it was harder to say. She had been surprised when Harry came up to tell her they should stop looking out for him before he appeared, and she was also surprised that Harry would throw himself at Malfoy practically as soon as he saw him. So telling him that she might want to have Malfoy over for tea sometime could go either way.

"Why?" Harry asked simply, not really revealing his feelings on the matter.

"I figure it's the only way to find out more about his current activities. To be honest, I don't think he's up to anything bad, but as you often enjoy letting me know-"

"Every chance I get, really." Harry smiled and wiggled his brows. Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"I have been wrong about this in the past," she continued. "So we could try to get more insight into his situation by talking to him. If he lets us."

Harry seemed torn and for a moment Hermione thought he might need more convincing, but then he slumped his shoulders. "If we want him to accept, you need to be the one who asks him."

"What? Why?"

"Because he's never going to trust me. He might believe you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart, or because you pity him. Either way, if someone can convince him it's you. Also, you're a girl." Harry winced after saying the last part, and for good reason.

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "Harry, that's sexist!"

"I know, I know. But Malfoy comes from a traditional, wealthy, pureblood family. Do you really think he's above sexism?" Harry had a point, as much as Hermione hated to admit it.

"Alright," she sighed in defeat and Harry didn't even hide his amusement. "But if he rejects me, _you_ will go and ask him again."

Harry's smile disappeared then.

Hermione smirked. "Be prepared, because I have a feeling he's not going to like having a mudblood invite him over for tea."

.

There weren't many moments that Draco genuinely enjoyed when he was at the beach. Mostly, he just tolerated the sand, sun, and water because it was better than driving himself crazy inside his holiday house.

And he just tolerated his holiday house because it was better than the manor.

The dusty, smothering depression of his parents were only paralleled by the disturbing memories that flooded his mind every time he walked into a room that the Dark Lord had touched. Draco had been certain that if he didn't walk away soon, he was going to drown.

So he left to the one place he was sure he would be alone and safe.

He should have known that the only person capable of wrecking his haven was Harry Potter.

And of course, he couldn't forget Potter's annoying sidekicks. It was surprising that Weasley didn't follow him like a puppy this time, though. But Granger was a big enough handful to deal with.

Draco almost flooed back home as soon as she saw her running out of that cottage in the middle of the night, but the fact that she was crying intrigued him, and in the end he decided to stick around to find out who else was there with her, although he had a pretty clear idea.

Thankfully, they had left him alone after their initial ambush, even though they had made a hobby out of watching him every night. But despite having to see their faces nearly every day for weeks, Draco wasn't as bothered by them as he had thought.

The only thing he really liked was watching the crabs getting in and out of their homes. It was such a simple thing, but one that he always loved doing as a kid when they visited the beach. He had told Potter and Granger that the beach on this side of the hill was nicer, but the truth was that for some reason or another, the crabs were all here.

The peace he felt when the little animals were moving around him was short-lived, though, because they only did it during the early morning and late afternoon. Right now the last of them were heading back inside as the sun rose higher in the sky, and Draco briefly wondered what it would be like to live under the sand.

He suddenly had the familiar feeling that someone was watching him and he sighed, exasperated. One would think that they'd get enough of him already, but apparently not. Draco turned his head to the right and his heart jumped when he saw Granger walking towards him. There was no question that she was headed in his direction and Draco's mind was reeling with possibilities. Had they found grounds to arrest him? Would she take him to Azkaban or to the manor? Draco didn't even know which he preferred.

He forced himself to calm down because it wouldn't do him good to be nervous now. Potter testified in his behalf during the trial and Draco hadn't done anything since, so there was no reason to arrest him. Besides, Granger wouldn't be alone if it was something so serious. Draco looked past her and found Potter sitting in small steps leading to the front door of their cottage, looking in his direction. He turned his eyes back to Granger, who was looking down at her bare feet as she drew closer and closer. She didn't have her wand in her hands, and the white, flowy dress she was wearing didn't look like it could store a wand. Draco frowned.

He turned his head to look at the sea again right before she reached him.

"Good morning, Malfoy."

Draco looked up at her then, she was smiling politely, her hands holding each other in front of her body.

Draco raised one eyebrow. "Yes?"

"I guess I deserve that after what we did the other day," she said, her smile vanishing. "We're sorry about that. It wasn't right to attack you for no reason."

"Oh," Draco nodded understandingly. So this was an apology visit. He should have expected that from a couple of Gryffindors; they just wanted to make themselves feel better and have the moral high ground. "Just don't do it again and we'll have no problems."

Granger smiled _again. "_ We won't. And as a peace offering, we'll like to invite you over for tea this afternoon."

The silence that followed Granger's words was so great that Draco thought that even the seagulls had shut their beaks.

"Tea?" he spoke the word as if he had never heard of such a thing in his life. "Tea?"

Granger had the audacity to laugh at him. "It can be coffee if you prefer. Although I'm much better at making tea."

Why in the world would they want to have _tea_ with him? Was it all just a ploy of some kind? Or was their Gryffindor search for moral superiority really that strong?

She was looking at him patiently as the wind kept blowing her hair over her face.

"Sorry, I can't."

A shiver ran down Draco's spine as he saw how rapidly Granger's expression changed. She no longer looked patient as her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed, her hands coming to rest on her hips. "Why? Do you have _plans_?"

It was clear that she was aware that Draco most certainly did not have plans, and he just didn't want to go. But the way she had asked made Draco feel like his blood would begin boiling any second now and he would be damned if he was going to back down from the challenge she had just dared him to.

It no longer mattered what their intentions were; Draco was going to beat them to it even if it meant lowering himself to meet their pathetically transparent tactics.

"You know what?" he said as he rose to his feet, smiling when Granger backed down a step. "I would _love_ to go."

She seemed taken aback. She had probably thought she would need to work to convince him. "Really?" Draco nodded, mimicking her polite grin from earlier, which seemed to freak her out for a moment before she recovered. "Shall we say around four?"

"Perfect. Should I bring anything?"

"Oh, don't worry, we've got it all sorted."

They looked at each other quietly for a second, the unspoken dialogue of their true intentions louder than ever.

"See you at four. Thank you for the invitation." Draco raised the level of fake politeness by doing a small appreciative bow. He almost lost it when he noticed that Granger looked like she wanted to bite his head off.

"You're welcome. Thank you for accepting," she ground out like it physically pained her.

Draco smiled even wider. "You're welcome."

Granger turned on her heel and started walking back, and Draco thought he even heard her huff as soon as she was no longer facing him. Potter was looking curiously at them, and when Granger got to the door they both went inside immediately.

Draco allowed himself to smirk triumphantly as he stretched his arms over head, his back tight from sitting for too long. He had forgotten how easy it was to rile Granger up, and he rather enjoyed the reminder. She should have known that someone like her could never win one over Draco by being polite.

The thought irked Draco. _Someone like her._ He wasn't entirely sure what he meant by that. Her blood was the first thing that came to mind, but then again, Potter or even Weasley were much less apt when it came to such a thing.

To him, the discussion about blood was over way before the war ended, and then it was pretty clear who had been right and who had been wrong. He wouldn't like to admit it, though, and he prefered not to have such a conversation with anyone.

He pushed the subject to the back of his mind. He had meant a Gryffindor, and such a rowdy one at that, with her wild mane of hair and bare feet. He didn't think he had ever seen her wearing shoes since he'd been there.

Had he really paid that much attention to her?

Of course not. It wasn't just her. Potter was always barefoot too, and nearly always shirtless. There were the only people he saw on a daily basis, that was it.

.

"Tell me again why we're doing this," Harry asked, his eyes following the frantic form of Hermione as she moved around the living room.

"Because," she breathed out as she finished taking the freshly baked biscuits out of the oven. "I am not going to be bested by Draco Malfoy. I know he's going to come here and act like the nicest person we've ever met and I refuse to let him win."

It had been a long time since Harry felt so confused. "Win what?"

"This!" she signaled at the table that she had so carefully set with different kinds of tea, biscuits, and even jam. Harry didn't know they had jam, but he still wasn't sure what she meant. He decided not to push it anymore, though, her encounter with Malfoy had left her completely on edge. She even put some sandals on, and a lovely blue dress that Harry hadn't seen before.

Hermione hadn't asked Harry to dress up, but he could tell that he should at least try to wear a clean t-shirt.

The living room looked nicer than Harry had ever seen it, and at four o'clock sharp, there was a knock on the door. He and Hermione looked at each other briefly before she went to open the door. Harry made sure he had his wand within reach.

"Thank you for coming!" Hermione smiled widely as she let Malfoy in. As expected, he looked perfectly put together; blond hair combed back, a green turtleneck tucked inside clean white trousers, and a bright smile. Harry narrowed his eyes at him.

"Thanks for inviting me, Granger." Malfoy turned to Harry. "Potter," he greeted politely with a nod, but thankfully not going as far as offering his hand.

Harry nodded back, forcing himself not to look as suspicious as he felt. It was then that he noticed that Malfoy had a potted plant in his hand, and he was offering it to Hermione. "For the house," he said.

"Oh, that's so thoughtful!" She placed the plant on the windowsill of the living room and invited Malfoy to sit at the table. The whole scene looked very surreal and Harry couldn't believe that Hermione could be so calm about this.

Harry learnt many things about Malfoy in those initial minutes. He liked black tea best, with two sugars and no milk. He had many plants in his house and simply brought over one, but he didn't know the name of it. He preferred Hermione's homemade biscuits over the store-bought one. He also had no idea there was a store nearby, and he had been getting all his food by owl-delivery.

But none of those things mattered to Harry, and he was starting to get increasingly angry at his and Hermione's useless fake chatter, pretending they really cared about all this facts about the other. Harry had barely muttered a word since they sat down, and busied himself with sipping his tea and looking at Malfoy for any signs of strange behaviour.

"The store is new, that's probably why you're not familiar with it," Hermione commented as she wiped crumbs off the table.

Malfoy leaned back, crossing one of his legs over the other. "Probably. Do they sell fresh fish from the area?"

Harry had had enough. He slammed his hand flat on the table, startling both Hermione and Malfoy, who looked at him with surprise. "Stop it!"

"Harry," Hermione warned, but he was no longer listening at her, his eyes focused on Malfoy.

"Why are you here, Malfoy? We both know you don't care about any of this, and I don't either. So let's just get it out in the open. _Why_ are you here?"

Malfoy's demeanor changed with surprising speed. His body language suddenly threatening instead of welcoming, and his face giving Harry goosebumps at how similar it looked like when they were younger. His chair scraped the floor as he got to his feet. Harry did the same.

"I wondered how long it would take for you to reveal your true intentions about bringing me here." His eyes moved to Hermione briefly before they set on Harry again. "It wasn't long, was it? That's how bloody pathetic you are. But guess what, Saint Potter?" He spat his name with so much hatred that Harry was almost hurt. "You're not an auror, and I don't have to answer to you, no matter how much it pains you."

Before Harry could think of what to say, Malfoy was walking over to the door and opening it. He looked over his shoulder locking eyes with Harry once more, and furious grey was all Harry could see. "Why are _you_ here?"

Malfoy putting one foot out the door made Harry react, before it was too late.

"I'm here to forget," he said, loud enough so the sound of the waves wouldn't drown out his words. Malfoy stopped moving. "I'm here because I can't handle anything else. And because I needed to get away from it all before I drove myself crazy."

Malfoy turned around then, his posture slightly less defensive. He wanted Harry to continue, Harry could tell.

"I'm here waiting for Ron, until he can come back again. I'm here for Hermione." He looked at her then, her eyes filled with tears. "Because I wouldn't know what to do without her. I'm here because it's easy and simple like nothing really is."

There was silence for a moment, Malfoy looking at him with a neutral expression.

Harry hadn't realized he had so many reasons, and he had never voiced them until now. He knew Hermione knew, and it had always been implicit between them. But now that they were out, even if it was in front of Malfoy, Harry's shoulders felt lighter.

"I'm here because I don't know what the fuck else to do."

Malfoy nodded once before stepping back in and closing the door behind him. He sat back down and cleared his throat. "Would you mind refilling my tea, Granger? What kind of hostess are you?"

Harry snorted. That's the Malfoy he knew.

"Screw you, Malfoy," she spat as she dried her eyes.

And the Hermione he knew.

.

Draco ate his ninth biscuit. He wasn't lying when he told Granger that he liked them, but he wasn't about to repeat it. "Where's Weasley anyway?"

"Romania with his brother," Potter said without looking up. After his small outburst things were more awkward, but that made the situation feel right, at least to Draco.

There was silence, only the soft clink of Granger stirring her tea. Draco took a moment to look around the room, noticing the small details that gave away the fact that, even though it was all clean and organized, the two Gryffindors had been living there for a while. Draco's family house didn't look like that, even though he had been there for weeks. It didn't have clothes carelessly shoved behind an armchair in an attempt to hide them. It didn't have curls on the sofa cushion or an extra pair of round spectacles on the coffee table.

"Um." Potter shifted uncomfortably on his chair, bringing Draco's attention back to him. "Did you used to come here as a child?"

It felt like a genuine question, but Draco couldn't help but be suspicious. "Why? Are you curious about what is like raising children here, Potter?" He smirked and took another sip of tea.

Potter looked confused, his dark eyebrows knitting together. "Why would I be curious about that?"

Draco shrugged. "You two live here now, no? I gotta say that it's impressive how you managed to keep it secret from the press." He shamelessly took the last of Granger's biscuits. "I get the Daily Prophet every week and I've yet to see a piece on the golden couple getting together, much less moving to the outskirts of _Montpellier_ , of all places."

Potter and Granger looked at each other with equally confused expressions before they turned back to look at him.

"Malfoy, do you think Harry and I are together?" Granger asked, a curious shade of red coloring her cheeks.

"Aren't you?" Draco asked, one eyebrow raised in genuine surprise.

They looked at each other again before breaking into a fit of (mostly nervous, he noted) laughter. Draco knew they weren't actually laughing _at him_ , but he still started feeling slightly aggravated.

Potter took off his spectacles and started cleaning them with his shirt, a smile still plastered on his face. "Hermione and I aren't a couple."

The way they both kept stealing glances at each other told Draco otherwise, but he was not about to argue, especially after such an uncomfortable display of laughter. Besides, they had no reason to lie about that, right?

"Oh, well sorry then, I guess." Draco wondered how long he had to stay for without creating more problems with the golden not-couple. Being so close to them for such a long time was starting to make him feel anxious, and he couldn't stop noticing every little thing about them; the bags under Granger's eyes, or Potter's annoying knuckle-cracking. Her hair wouldn't stay put no matter how many times she pushed a strand behind her ear, and he had crumbs in the corner of his mouth that Draco felt the need to wipe off. On top of everything, the color of Granger's dress matched Potter's shirt and Draco was certain that hey hadn't even noticed.

"I'm sorry about the other day, by the way," Potter said after a not-too-subtle nudge from Granger.

"Yes, Granger mentioned it," Draco replied, not really comfortable with apologies.

"But I hadn't. Anyway, I hope after today there won't be any hard feelings."

Draco wanted to gag, since when had Potter become so soft? "I think there will always be hard feelings between us, Potter."

Despite his intentions, his words came out _nothing_ like he had meant them, and any malice was completely lost, even more so after Granger did a terrible job of hiding hiding her laugh and Potter gave him an amused smile. Draco gave them both a nasty look.

"I better get going," he said while standing up. Both Potter and Granger leapt to their feet and Draco was taken aback for a moment.

"We were not laughing at you," Potter rushed.

"No," Granger added. "Don't be so sensitive, Malfoy."

Draco sighed, every second that passed more weirded out. "That's not why I'm leaving. I just...got a thing to do."

They simply nodded and Draco tried to ignore the fact that they looked put out.

"Thank you for the tea and everything." he straightened his shirt, looking at both of them with what he hoped was some sort of smile.

"No problem," Granger said. "Thank you for the plant."

Draco nodded. Potter looked like he was debating whether he should say something or not, so Draco left quickly before he decided, not wanting to extend his stay any longer. When he closed the door behind him, he breathed in relief. All in all he didn't feel like he had a bad time, definitely not as terrible as he had imagined, but something just told him that it was wrong for him to spend time with Potter and Granger.

The sea looked calm and soothing, and if he wasn't mistaken, he would still have time to watch the crabs before going home.


	5. Smoke

**Chapter Five - Smoke**

After Malfoy left that afternoon, Hermione and Harry talked more during the rest of the day than ever before since coming here. Malfoy had given them a lot of talking material, and by the end of the night they had both agreed that he was most likely not up to anything bad (although Harry had said that they should be on the lookout for any strange behaviour).

They continued to see Draco at the beach, brooding in the distance as always, but he hadn't made any contact like Hermione had...expected? _hoped_?

She didn't know why, but after talking to him the other day she was even more intrigued by him, and Hermione thought that maybe he'd feel lonely enough to reach for her and Harry again. After a week passed, she realized that she had been very foolish to expect Draco Malfoy to _want_ to spend time with some of the people he hated the most. She also didn't want to think about it, but he might even still consider her too impure and inferior. Prejudices didn't disappear just because the war was over, as much as she wished they did.

Hermione fell back to the routine of sleeping during the day and staying awake all night, and Harry continued having a 'normal' sleeping schedule, so they only saw each other at dinner. Hermione hated it, and she hated herself for not being strong enough to deal with her problems in broad daylight.

Oddly enough, the only thing that helped was seeing Malfoy sulking in the distance of the beach every night too and realizing she wasn't the only one.

"Do you want any more? You barely ate anything," Harry told her from the other side of the table.

Hermione shook her head, trying and most definitely failing in masking her disgust. "I can't stomach more fish."

Harry's face fell. He hadn't been exactly cheerful to begin with, but now he looked downright upset. He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping the floor, and then he picked up Hermione's plate as well as his own, throwing the excess food in the bin with more force than necessary. Hermione hadn't meant anything personal, Harry's cooking wasn't bad, but she was just so sick of fish.

"Harry, I didn't mean-"

"Next time you can come up with something else to eat, then."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears. Hearing Harry snap at her like that made her feel like things were never going to improve; they'd just get worse and worse until she and Harry hated each other. Maybe they hadn't needed more time together, maybe they needed time apart.

And that just broke her heart even more.

Harry was angrily doing the dishes now, and Hermione took a deep breath to calm herself down before standing up and hugging him from behind. Harry froze.

"I'm sorry."

He dropped the dishes he was holding and placed his hands over her arms that were wrapped around his middle. His hands were wet but Hermione didn't mind. Hermione felt him relax so she rested her head on his back and they stood like that for a while, just the little gestures speaking for them, like Harry drawing circles on her skin or Hermione squeezing him harder. _I am so tired. I don't know how to handle this. I have no idea what to do._

"Me too," Harry whispered after a while. He turned around to face her and hugged her closer. Hermione had stopped crying, but suddenly her stomach dropped when she felt Harry's heart beating too fast. What could be wrong?

She pulled away a little and looked up, not knowing what to expect. Harry was already looking down at her, his green eyes fixed on her face, and Hermione actually felt herself blush. Harry must have noticed because his cheeks reddened a bit as well, and Hermione wondered if their faces had ever been this close before. It was very likely, but she didn't remember it feeling like _this._ She couldn't control her eyes that suddenly looked at Harry's lips as if she had never seen them before, and before she could blink they were moving closer to her. Hermione couldn't breathe.

Harry kissed her right cheek, not too far away from her lips, and for a moment Hermione thought about every time Harry had kissed her cheek and this time she could be one hundred percent sure that it had never felt like this.

He smiled and she did too, trying her best to avoid an awkward situation.

There was a loud knock on the window and they both jumped abruptly, Harry even drawing his wand. A large brown owl pecked on the kitchen window once again, but the relief barely lasted a second, because Harry and Hermione hadn't seen any owls since they got there. The people that knew they were there were told not to contact them unless absolutely necessary, so this probably meant that something was wrong.

Harry approach the bird cautiously and gave Hermione a confused look before opening the window. The bird had a letter taped to its leg, but it didn't look very long and that made Hermione feel somewhat better. The bird flew away as soon as Harry untied the letter from its leg and Hermione stepped in behind him so she could read as well.

 _I suppose you two haven't had anything decent to eat in weeks, so if you'd like to come tomorrow I will have something prepared. Be outside the house at 8 pm sharp so I can let you in._

 _D. M._

They both finished reading the letter and looked at each other. Hermione couldn't believe what she was reading and Harry looked equally bewildered. "Is Malfoy actually inviting us over to his house?" Harry asked, a suspicious glint in his eyes.

"Not only that," said Hermione. "He's inviting us to dinner."

Hermione couldn't help the smile the spread across her lips and for the looks of it Harry couldn't either.

"Are we going?" she asked tentatively, just to make sure they were on the same page.

Harry huffed a laugh. "What do you think?"

"I think we should buy a plant," Hermione said.

.

Even Harry had trouble sleeping that night. He lied awake for hours thinking about the worst possible reasons that Malfoy could have by inviting them over. Harry had gotten used to expecting the worse, and he wondered if he would ever feel safe enough for that habit to go away. But if none of the worst-case scenarios were to happen, there was only the possibility that Malfoy sort of enjoyed their company, and that seemed even crazier to Harry.

No matter the reason, there was no way he was going to miss the opportunity to get inside his house and find out his true intentions.

The front door opened and for some reason Harry closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. Hermione probably wanted to go to sleep earlier, because the sun wasn't up yet. They had gotten so used to sleeping in the living room after spying on Malfoy that they just kept on doing it; the sofa and carpet transfigured into two single beds. Harry heard Hermione crawl over hers and then sigh deeply, so he opened his eyes slowly, expecting to see her looking at him with sleepy eyes.

Instead, she had climbed on the other side of the bed, so Harry found himself staring at Hermione's legs. She was lying on her side facing him, and Harry wondered if she was already asleep. His eyes moved up her body until he saw that her eyes were closed, and then, as if they had life of their own, his eyes moved down her body again, slowly. Harry felt his heart beat faster and a slight sense of guilt pooling at the bottom of his stomach. He shouldn't be looking at Hermione like _that_ , but he couldn't help it and he didn't understand why. Why now? Why here? Was it because they were alone just the two of them? Had he always wanted this?

Hermione moved and he closed his eyes again, his cheeks burning hot with the threat of being caught ogling at her in the dark like some kind of creep. His heart was out of control and there was no way he could convince himself to sleep now, so he opened his eyes again when there was silence. Her eyes were still closed, and she had shifted slightly so her dress had ridden up her legs and Harry had to actually fight with himself to keep Hermione's soft-looking thighs out of his thoughts. He turned over to stare at the ceiling, rubbing his eyes almost painfully. The confusion he felt was almost as big as his desire to keep looking at her, so in the end Harry was able to fall asleep after many long minutes of conflicting thoughts and torturous day-dreams.

.

At eight P.M. sharp the next night Harry and Hermione stood hand in hand in front of the abandoned-looking Malfoy residence. They waited for a while not really speaking to each other, as they were both a little nervous. Malfoy opened the door a few minutes after and greeted them with a nod.

"Sorry I'm late," he said politely. "The food has just arrived and-" He looked at their joined hands for a moment and then back at their faces. Harry wasn't sure but he thought that Malfoy might have been resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "I... need to be in contact with both of you so you can pass through the wards," he explained awkwardly.

He seemed to be struggling to find a way to touch them and for a second Harry thought he would actually take their hands, but then Malfoy cleared his throat. "Put your hands on my shoulders," he instructed them, so Harry and Hermione let go of each other and did as they were told.

Hermione looked as stiff as Harry felt, but gladly it only lasted a second as the warm magic of the wards washed over them. The inside of the house, as expected, was nothing like the outside. Fortunately, it didn't look like Malfoy Manor either, it was less extravagant but it still made Harry feel like he was entering a high-society dinner party.

Malfoy stepped away form their touch as soon as they were inside. "This way," he motioned them to follow him past the heavily decorated entrance hall to the dining room. The large mahogany table was already set for three, leaving a big portion of it completely empty. Hermione and Harry sat next to each other, leaving the head of the table for Malfoy, but he didn't sit.

"Red or white wine?" he asked them.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other trying to come up with an answer. Harry was about to say that he didn't really care when Hermione spoke first. "Depends on what we're having?"

"Not fish, if that's what you're asking," Malfoy told her and she seemed relieved. When no one answered him, Malfoy sighed. "I shouldn't have asked people who most likely have never had wine in their lives." He turned on his heel and walked off to another room, probably the kitchen.

Hermione scoffed indignantly. "Who does he think he is?" she asked Harry, not bothering to keep her voice down.

"He's right, you know. I've never had wine." Harry shrugged and kept looking around. There were a few small portraits looking at them and whispering to each other, but Harry concluded that they must not be very important if they were in the holiday house instead of the main one.

Malfoy came back, a bottle of firewhiskey and three glasses floating behind him. Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him.

"This will make the evening less bizarre," Malfoy pointed out as the firewhiskey poured itself in each of the glasses. Malfoy handed one to Hermione and then to Harry, who took a big gulp as soon as he had it in his hand. He didn't notice that Malfoy was raising his glass, prepared to make a toast of some kind when he stopped to look at Harry. Hermione was looking at him too.

"Sorry," Harry apologized.

"Don't be," Malfoy said and downed the entire contents of his glass in one swallow, shaking his head slightly afterwards. "I should have thought of it too."

Hermione tried her firewhiskey and scrunched up her face at the taste before relaxing and turning to look at Malfoy, who was still standing behind his chair. "Thank you for inviting us, Malfoy."

Malfoy nodded. "I'll get the food," he said before disappearing again.

Clearly, he wasn't still playing at who could be the most polite.

"He looks stressed," Harry told Hermione in a low voice. "Should we worry?"

"I think he's just a prick," Hermione said angrily, taking another sip of her drink. She didn't grimace this time.

A few minutes later, big trays and plates almost overflowing with food floated their way to the table, Malfoy right behind them, and he finally sat down. The smell was incredible and Harry was suddenly very hungry.

"Is this…?" Hermione asked, pointing at the biggest tray.

"Lamb," Malfoy confirmed. "I was right to assume that you've been eating rubbish for weeks, wasn't I?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Is not rubbish, we just don't have house elves slaving away just so we can eat like queens every single night."

"First of all," Malfoy said as he poured himself more firewhiskey. Harry could see where this discussion was going, so he started serving himself food before a ridiculous fight broke out. "I don't have house elves here, they just send me the food. And second of all, they're not slaving away, they're being paid."

Hermione frowned. "What?"

Malfoy looked at Harry's full plate of food and shook his head. "Don't you have any manners, Potter?" He took Hermione's plate and started serving her food. "Granger, weren't you the one who helped passed the law to put elves under wager?"

"Yes, but we didn't think that pureblood families were actually going to do it... not that fast anyway."

"Well, my mother does." He finished serving Hermione and started serving himself. Hermione murmured a quick 'thanks' and waited for him to start eating. Harry was already through his second serving of potatoes, which tasted exactly like the ones they had at Hogwarts.

They all ate in silence for a while. Harry could tell how much Hermione was enjoying the food, and how much Malfoy was enjoying the firewhiskey. If they were lucky, the alcohol would loosen his tongue and they would get more answers to their questions about him.

"Oh no," Hermione broke the long silence. "We left the plant."

"What plant?" Malfoy asked.

"We wanted to give you a plant...like you did when you came for tea," Hermione explained.

Unexpectedly, Malfoy started laughing, but only for a moment before he noticed that Harry and Hermione were looking at him like he was crazy. "Oh," he stopped, mirth still visible in his face. "You're serious?"

Harry snorted and even Hermione shook her head in amusement. "Yes, but nevermind." She waved a hand dismissively and finished off her drink. Harry had already poured himself more, and he asked Hermione if she wanted more too.

"See? I taught you manners, Potter. Ladies first." Malfoy smirked.

Harry had been quiet most of the time, but now the firewhiskey was starting to do what he had wanted. "Come off it, Malfoy, do you really care about that?"

Malfoy shrugged. "And why shouldn't I?"

"Because it's meaningless. Why can't it be gentlemen first?" Hermione asked him as she motioned Harry to pour her more firewhiskey.

"Fine. From now on it'll be gentlemen first, Granger." Malfoy stood up, looking more than a little tipsy. His eyes landed on Harry. "Potter, follow me. Granger, you may come too, but you _have_ to walk behind Potter. Gentlemen first."

Malfoy walked away, but to a different room than before. Harry and Hermione looked incredulously at each other before leaving the table.

"This shall be interesting," Hermione whispered to Harry as they followed Malfoy.

They heard him from the next room. "Although, is Potter to be considered a gentleman?"

.

Draco took his two guests to the living room, where they each sat on an armchair and continued to drink. Well, at least _he_ was drinking, he didn't know how much Potter and Granger had had.

He hadn't used the living room since he came to this house. He was usually outside or in his bedroom trying to sleep, so despite the fact that he was accompanied by Potter and Granger, this was a mostly welcome change. He looked at them through the haze of alcohol. Granger was yet again wearing a dress. He didn't think he had seen her wearing anything else since he first saw her in this god-forsaken beach. Potter looked mostly put together in black trousers and a grey t-shirt. Would it kill him to own a button up?

Draco looked up and realized that he had been staring at Potter for far too long, and the other man was watching him curiously. Draco thought that he should say something. "Don't you own a decent shirt, Potter?"

"You mean like all your turtlenecks?" Potter asked. Draco was not wearing a turtleneck right then, but he could see where Potter was going. "It's like ninety degrees constantly, how can you stand going out in the sun wearing so many clothes?"

Granger bent forward in her seat a little bit, clearly interested in Draco's answer. Draco stared at both of them for a while, eyeing their bodies up and down. He smirked.

"I wasn't blessed with sun-proof skin, Potter. I have a permanent cooling charm on my clothes when I go outside during the day."

Potter frowned. "Isn't that-"

"Exhausting?" Draco finished for him. "Yes, but ultimately better than burning my delicate skin to a crisp."

Granger laughed then, but Draco didn't find what he said all that funny and apparently neither did Potter, who was also looking at her strangely.

"Oh, I wasn't laughing at you," she told Draco. "It just reminded me of what happened to Harry a few weeks ago."

Potter chuckled a bit too. In normal circumstances Draco would have waited for them to tell them instead of asking, but he was feeling impatient. "What happened?"

Granger sipped her firewhiskey and giggled. "Harry was floating in the water most of the day, right under the sun with no protection of any sort." She stopped to laugh some more, with Potter joining her too. "When I found him he was a red as the Gryffindor common room, and was running a fever, _and_ he hadn't even realized!"

Potter and Granger continued to laugh, but the story had the opposite effect on Draco. He even felt the haze of alcohol diminish, which he didn't appreciate at all because he was able to truly gather how completely insane it was that they were laughing at that. Wasn't it supposed to be something bad? Wasn't Potter in danger then? Draco didn't like what he was seeing at all, so he finished off the firewhiskey in his glass and poured himself some more.

Granger stopped laughing when she noticed that Draco looked uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, I guess it doesn't sound so funny spelled out like that."

Potter had stopped laughing too, and he shared a look with Granger that Draco didn't know how to read. They were all silent for a while, the two of them looking around the living room while Draco tried to calculate how much firewhiskey he could drink without being sick that night.

His eyes fell on them again. Granger was bouncing her knee anxiously and Potter was biting his lip, looking like he was internally debating with himself. Draco sighed.

"What else you want to know?" he asked them. At their surprised looks, he decided to explain before they came up with nonsensical excuses. "We all know you have questions. Spit them out. You get three, and I get three. Deal?"

Potter and Granger looked at each other, and Draco thought it'd take them a moment to decide whether or not this was worth it for them, but to his surprise they both nodded almost immediately. He waved a hand in their direction, inviting them to ask the questions first.

"Are you living here now?" Potter asked, looking apprehensive.

Draco shook his head right away, and wished he hadn't done it so hard, as he got a little dizzy. "No. Couldn't stand it even if I want it to."

Potter seemed satisfied with this answer, and he leaned back in his chair, taking a sip from his drink. Draco looked at Granger, who seemed to be deciding what question to ask.

"Do you ever sleep?" she asked. For a moment Draco thought she was joking, but she sounded genuinely interested.

"I could ask you the same, Granger," he answered with a shrug. She looked like she was about to argue, so he continued. "But of course I do. You'd be right to think I don't do it for nearly as long as I should, but who does?"

Granger smiled. "Harry sleeps all night. Might be the first human in modern society to do so."

Potter didn't seem to mind Granger saying this, but it did make Draco frown as he thought about it. Potter slept all night while Granger was always up? Did their schedules never align? One of Draco's questions was going to be about how they were able to spend so much time together without actually being a couple or murdering each other, but this explained it all. If they rarely saw each other, everything made sense.

"You've got one more question," Draco told them, wondering if they were finally going to accuse him of planning an evil plot as his whole reason for being there.

Once again, they looked at each other. He could tell they were able to communicate a lot of things with just one look, and for a split second Draco felt a pang of nostalgia. He remembered how he was able to do things like that with his friends too.

Granger shifted in her seat. They seemed to have decided that she would get the final question, and Draco focused his attention on her. He wasn't sure how much firewhiskey she'd had, but for a moment she seemed to have sobered up. Her posture became rigid and her eyes seemed clear and determined. Draco felt his insides lurch.

"Do you still think muggleborns are inferior?"

The question floated around them like a cloud, heavy with rain, and the longer Draco waited to answer, the longer he was sure it was all going to come down storming over him.

"No," he said. He could feel Potter's eyes on him, and he was probably holding his wand inside his pocket, ready to strike in case Draco said something he didn't like. But Draco didn't look at him, his eyes never left Granger's. "No, I don't. And I'm sorry I ever did."

Maybe he should have said something else; try to explain that his upbringing hadn't left him any other choice, or that he now knew all of that was rubbish, but he had the feeling that if Granger didn't believe him now, there was no amount of words that could make her change her mind.

Granger held his gaze for a while, and then he watched her body relax. She didn't nod or acknowledge his response in any way. "What's your first question?" she asked, her voice neutral.

Draco tried to ignore the feeling of relief that washed over him. Why should he care if she believed him or not? Other than avoiding an inconvenient fight, he gained nothing from her acceptance of his truth.

He finally moved his eyes from Granger and looked at his glass of firewhiskey. He finished it off and cleared his throat. "How long have you been here?"

"About three weeks," Potter answered. There was silence again.

Draco nodded. "When are you leaving?"

They both shrugged almost at the same time, but Draco noticed that they didn't look at each other this time. In fact, they looked like they were trying to avoid it; Granger suddenly very interested in her own hands and Potter looking at the carpet. They obviously had never talked about what came after this. Draco wanted to smirk, but thought better of it.

He poured himself more firewhiskey, slowly, and when he put the bottle down again, he realized that they were both now looking at him expectantly.

"Well?" Granger asked, an impatient edge to her voice. "What's your last question?"

Right. He still had one question left. But Draco didn't have one, and his mind wasn't working quick enough to come up with something good right off the bat.

"I think I'll save it for later," he said with a smirk as he swayed in his seat, even sloshing a bit of firewhiskey on the carpet. Granger rolled her eyes and Potter didn't seem to mind. Draco took a sip and it hit him how tired he felt. Everything looked completely blurred to his eyes now, and his eyelids started feeling heavy. If he wasn't careful, he was going to pass out in front of Potter and Granger, leaving himself completely vulnerable. He shook his head, trying to force his mind to wake up.

"It's pretty late," Potter said as he stood up. Draco's eyes followed his movement lazily. "We should get going."

Granger nodded and got to her feet too. Draco placed his glass on the floor before using both arms to push himself off the armchair. The amount of effort it took was ridiculous and he even thought he saw Granger move in his direction with the intention of helping him.

He lead the way wordlessly to the entrance. They didn't need him to leave the house once they entered, but he was going to end this evening with as much dignity as he could muster, so he opened the door for them and forced a smile. "Thank you for coming."

"Thanks for having us," Granger said politely as she exited.

"The food was very good. Thank you." Potter placed a hand briefly on Draco's shoulder before he followed Granger out of the house. Draco would have made a comment about Potter treating him like a chum if he wasn't so ridiculously sleepy. He wondered if he was going to make it to the bed after they left.

"Goodnight Malfoy," Granger called right before Potter stepped in next to her, took her hand, and disapparated them both.

Draco did not make it to the bed.


	6. Humidity

**Chapter Six - Humidity**

"So, did you notice?" Hermione asked when she and Harry arrived. The dinner at Malfoy's house hadn't gone as badly as she had expected, but that didn't mean it wasn't interesting.

Harry was taking off his shoes. "Notice what?"

"The reason Malfoy doesn't sleep."

Harry looked confused. "He looked pretty sleepy to me right before we left."

Hermione nodded. "Right. Because he was drunk. But didn't you notice how drunk he was and how fast he got there for the amount of alcohol he actually consumed?"

"Well, no." Harry looked at her as if she was crazy for asking such specific questions. "He did refill his drink many times."

"Yes, but he only poured himself a few sip's worth. In total he must have had about two glasses, I mean there were three of us and the bottle was barely half empty when we left!"

Clearly Harry hadn't payed attention to that, but Hermione didn't blame him. "I'm just saying, it's not normal to get _that_ drunk with just two drinks. Malfoy is tall and broad-shouldered-" Hermione broke off, realizing how her words must have sounded. "I mean, he's not so skinny anymore. And he shouldn't be so affected by what he drank."

Harry cleared his throat, still looking at her like she was a little crazy. "And is that the reason he doesn't drink? You think he's an alcoholic?"

"No, no." Hermione shook her head. "When we were in the dining room I saw a small vial on a shelf that looked remarkably like a sleeping potion. And one of the side effects of sleeping potions is making you overly sensitive to all other substances, because it already takes a toll on the liver. And the more you take them, the harder it is to sleep normally, that's why I think he's always up."

Harry frowned. "How do you know that much about sleeping potions?"

The answer was fairly obvious. "I read about it." But what Hermione didn't mention was how heavily she researched all kinds of sleeping potions a while ago, when she was considering them for herself.

Harry removed his shirt and threw it in a corner on top of a pile of clothes. "Alright, so Malfoy is taking sleeping potions." Hermione watched as he put on another, more comfortable shirt. "What about it?"

She shook her head. "Not much. It's not really good to rely on them but...it's just Malfoy."

Harry looked at her. "Yeah…" He nodded slowly. "It's just Malfoy."

As Harry finished changing into his pajamas, Hermione felt a little embarrassed that she never did that anymore and simple slept in whatever clothes she was wearing, as they were usually very comfortable anyway. She wondered if Harry thought she was lazy or disgusting.

Then again, he had never seemed to mind sleeping in close proximity to her.

She knew she would have a hard time sleeping that night, but she got into bed anyway, wondering what type of sleeping potion Malfoy was using.

"Good night, Hermione."

"Good night, Harry."

.

Harry looked at the selection of meats in front of him. There was little option other than fish, but after his almost fight with Hermione the other day, he couldn't bring himself to eat it again, not so soon. He picked up a packet of sausages that looked rather odd, but it wouldn't get better than that. He threw it in his cart and continued to the produce section. He was eyeing the aisle up and down trying to find the carrots when something caught his attention. White blond hair peeking out from the entrance of the store. Harry's heart started racing unexpectedly, and then he clearly saw Malfoy pushing a cart into the first aisle and his feet started moving on their own.

"Hi."

Malfoy's head snapped up and he looked at Harry with shock. "Potter," he started, matter-of-factly.

Harry smiled ever so slightly. "Got tired of owl delivery?"

Malfoy still looked a bit shocked, but he nodded. "I thought I'd come down and see what I can get here. It's certainly faster than waiting for the owls." He looked like he was ashamed to having been caught there, like his dignity was taking a blow or something.

Harry was suddenly struck with the absurd reality of their situation. He was in the middle of a muggle supermarket, talking about owl delivery with Draco Malfoy. Thankfully, there was no one around who might have heard them and thought them crazy.

"Do you…" Harry started, his brain somehow scrambling for a topic of conversation. "Do you have muggle money?"

Malfoy nodded again and scratched his head. "I actually got it delivered by owl." And Malfoy smiled.

Harry snorted a laugh. "Good. I was going to offer to pay."

For a moment he thought Malfoy wouldn't answer, but when he rolled his eyes, Harry felt a wave of comfortable familiarity. "We all know you're rich, Potter, you don't have to flaunt it."

Malfoy pushed his cart forward and Harry followed him.

They finished shopping together, Malfoy helping Harry differentiate between Earl Grey and English Breakfast tea, and Harry recommending and explaining a few muggle snacks to Malfoy, as well as helping him pay.

The encounter was brief and they didn't talk all that much, but Harry didn't feel any kind of animosity. It was strange, but Harry decided he liked it. He showed Malfoy a spot behind a tree next to the store that was perfect to disapparate without being seen, and then they exchanged awkward goodbyes before parting ways.

It had been ages since Harry interacted with someone other than Hermione, _and_ without Hermione being there, so even though it was Malfoy, Harry welcomed the experience.

And he couldn't wait to tell Hermione about it.

.

The night was angry with an unexpected storm. Draco looked transfixed as the clouds above swirled and shifted gracefully. There were loud thunderstorms every now and then, but it was the sound of the sea that was deafening. The waves crashed again and again tirelessly, each seeming bigger than the last. Draco kept his distance, because it was terrifying how strong and merciless the water looked, but he couldn't stop watching the storm unfold.

A lightning bolt illuminated the entire beach, Draco's eyes almost hurting from the brightness of the light. The thunder that followed was even louder and sharper than before. The storm was getting close. Another lightning bolt, which surprised him this time. He was able to see its shape perfectly against the horizon to his right, and then after it passed he saw something else that surprised him just as much.

A figure had just run out of Potter and Granger's house. It was hard to distinguish who in the darkness and without the moon, but then another bolt helped him realize it was Granger. She had ran out of the house and sat down on the sand, facing the furious sea. She was much closer to it than Draco was, but still safe from the enormous waves. Draco forgot about the storm for a moment, and remained watching her. It wasn't surprising to see Granger out during nighttime; he now knew that she had trouble sleeping too, but when she wasn't there at sundown, he thought she wouldn't go out that night.

Intermittently, the lightning bolts helped him see that she was holding her head in her hands, and rocking back and forth softly in place. It was like watching a series of moving photographs in front of him, interrupted by darkness. A series of depressing photographs.

Draco stuffed his hands in his pockets and started walking. He tried to stop questioning his own motives, letting the roaring noise from the storm drown out his thoughts as he continued towards her.

He could see her clearly now, even in the darkness. Granger was evidently crying, looking down at the sand and sobbing out loud, even though Draco would barely hear her over everything else. He took a careful step closer; she hadn't noticed him yet, and he didn't want to scare her.

"Granger," he called, louder than normal.

She looked up, startled but not scared. Her big eyes were red and wet, and she looked down quickly, not wanting him to see her crying.

 _Too late_ , thought Draco.

He closed the remaining distance and stood next to her for a second before he sat down. He didn't say anything, just waited to see if she would curse him, or tell him to fuck off, or both. She stopped sobbing, but she sniffed and looked like she was trying to compose herself. Draco stared at the sea.

He didn't know how long they sat there, but it was at least fifteen minutes before Granger spoke. "It's going to start raining." Her voice was strained and rough.

Draco nodded. "Took long enough." In the distance it looked like it was already raining, right over the sea. "Do you want me to cast a shield above us?"

Granger snorted. Draco finally turned his head to look at her. Her eyes were still red and puffy, but she had an amused smile.

"I just...sometimes I completely forget I can do magic. I was already expecting to just sit here getting soaked by the rain. But there are so many solutions, aren't there? We could cast a shield, or summon an umbrella, or transfigure the sand into a shelter." Granger sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Or we could simply walk back inside and not make everything so complicated."

Draco could tell she had no intentions of walking back inside. "No offence, Granger, but you are very complicated." She turned to look at him and Draco looks back at the sea. "A dreamless sleep potion would have solved your problems tonight, but instead you are sitting on the sand right beneath a storm and next to me."

"Hey, you were the one who came here, I have no fault in that," she said in mock defense.

Draco bit back a smirk. "You're welcome, by the way."

"For what?"

"You did stop crying, didn't you?"

Granger snorted again. She did that a lot. "Be careful, Malfoy, someone might think you're nice or something."

He didn't know what to answer. He didn't care that much if Granger thought he was nice, but he knew he still didn't run that risk, It was way too soon for everything to be kept in the past.

A few drops started falling over them. Draco didn't mind at first, but it was getting worse by the second and he didn't fancy getting sick just for refusing to move first. He stood up.

"Are you really going to stay there?" He asked, surprised at her complete lack of reaction. "Do you even have your wand?"

Granger shook her head and rain started falling faster. Draco grunted in frustration and pulled out his own, casting a shield over them. The sound of the drops falling rapidly over the shield was maddening, and combined with the crashing of waves and occasional thunder, it was almost too much, but specially because Granger was so silent, so unmoving and peaceful that it was driving Draco crazy. He looked over at the sea. The tide was rising and the water was getting closer to them.

"Granger!" he shouted, stomping his foot on the ground.

"What?" she asked, not even looking up at him.

Draco put a hand on her shoulder and shook it. "Do something!"

Granger looked at his hand and then up at him. She seemed confused as to why he was so upset, but Draco didn't care. If he hadn't come here, she would still be crying her eyes out. If he hadn't pulled out his wand, she would be be completely wet and shivering. He didn't want to have to drag her to the house just because she was completely stubborn and refused to do the logical thing.

"What?" She shouted back. "What do you want me to do?"

Draco was losing his patience. "Stop being so pathetic!"

Granger got to her feet, her eyes narrowed. "Why don't you stop being such a prat? If you came here to yell at me, you better leave!"

"No, _you_ leave. You get in the house, right now!" Draco shouted through gritted teeth. She was so ungrateful and infuriating.

"Why? Why do you care so much if I stay here?"

The storm was getting stronger and Draco was so furious that his shield had started to weaken, and some rain was getting inside. A few drops fell over Granger's face.

Draco felt so stupid. He shouldn't have come here. If she wanted to stand there moping under a thunderstorm he should have let her. If she was so sad she was willing to risk being swallowed by the sea, it shouldn't be his problem. Draco narrowed his eyes.

Without a warning, Draco dropped his arm holding the wand, and the shield vanished. Granger was momentarily shocked by the amount of water that fell over them, and Draco took advantage, swooping in and wrapping his arms around her middle.

"Wha- Malfoy!" She screamed.

Draco lifted her off the ground, threw her over his shoulder and started carrying to her house. Granger was kicking and trying to push him off, but Draco tightened his grip. Granger didn't have a wand, so he knew he was in no immediate danger as he kept walking with difficulty in the sand. For a moment he regretted not levitating her, but his frustration with her wasn't letting him think clearly. He finally arrived at the small steps leading to the door, climbed them and placed Granger back down. They were under a roof now, but it didn't matter as they were both completely soaked, drops dripping rapidly from Draco's hair.

Draco could feel the furious anger radiating off Granger, so he spoke before she could bite his head off. "If you want to go back, I'm not going to chase you." He descended two steps and turned his head around. "If Potter had been the one standing under a storm like a moron, you would have dragged him in no matter what."

Granger's mouth closed and her shoulders dropped. She stared after Draco with an inscrutable expression. Draco stuffed his wand in his pocket and disapparated with a crack.

Hermione didn't tell Harry about what happened the other night with Malfoy. She was too embarrassed and she was certain that the story didn't make her sound too sane, so she acted as if never happened. Besides, she didn't want to bring Harry down, who seemed to be in a better mood lately, so her nightmares and breakdowns would only worry him.

Harry had told her about his run in with Malfoy at the store the other day, but he hadn't seen him again since, and Hermione also hadn't seen Malfoy in a while, not even at nights in the distance as usual. Maybe he'd gone back home, or maybe he was still angry with Hermione and didn't want to see either of them.

She and Harry had just finished dinner, and he was lying back on the sofa, apparently counting the tiles on the ceiling while Hermione finished cleaning up. She looked at the calendar on the wall and froze. The days were not marked, and they spent so many days doing nothing that it was hard to keep track, so Hermione had to do some serious mental counting to remember what day it was, but when she was sure, she tried not to gasp.

Harry's birthday was tomorrow.

Harry did remember, didn't he? He hadn't said anything, but he must remember his own birthday. Either way, Hermione didn't want to say anything, not until she could think of a present or surprise of some sort. Harry deserved to have a nice birthday, and it gave Hermione something to focus on, at least until tomorrow.

What would make Harry happier? What could make this faraway place feel more like home to him?

Hermione smiled to herself in triumph. She knew what she had to do, but she couldn't let Harry know.

"I'm not feeling too well," Hermione said casually, placing a hand over her lower belly. Harry turned his head, his eyes followed her movement down and then he looked up at her eyes. "I'm going to see if Fleur has some sort of potion that could help."

Harry sat up. "Do you want me to buy you something? I'm sure there's muggle medicine in the store."

Hermione shook her head. "That's alright. I think I saw something in the potion cabinet upstairs."

Hermione went upstairs and got into the master bedroom, closing the door behind her carefully. They rarely went upstairs anymore, so she needed an excuse that sounded convincing. She knelt in front of the fireplace in the corner and tapped it with her wand, activating it again. If Harry was going to have a good birthday, she needed a little help.

She threw floo powder inside the fireplace. "Ginny Weasley, The Burrow."


	7. Sand

**Chapter Seven - Sand**

Hermione did her best to sleep that night, so she could spend the entire day with Harry. In the morning she surprised him with pancakes and pretended she hadn't gotten him anything. Harry believed her, of course, because where would she buy him a present? Hermione felt bad for lying to him, but it would be worth it later.

"What if we have a picnic outside today?" she asked him. "I can prepare something and we could spend the afternoon outside. It's not too sunny today."

"Sure," Harry agreed with a smile, strawberry jam decorating the corner of his lips.

Around midday an owl pecked on the living room window and Hermione's stomach dropped upon seeing it was only carrying an envelope. It turned out to be Ron's present for Harry, tickets for next year's Quidditch World Cup.

"They're selling them already?" Hermione asked, looking over Harry's shoulder.

"Yes, the stakes are really high for this one. Ron managed to get really good seats. Oh and look," Harry said as he pointed out part of Ron's letter to Hermione. "He's visiting Bulgaria right now."

Hermione smiled, thinking about Ron's smiling face over a background of tall green mountains…

"Can you imagine if he runs into Viktor Krum?" Harry asked, amused.

Hermione scoffed. "What are the odds of _that_ happening?"

They both chuckled and Hermione thought about how much she missed Ron. She couldn't even imagine how much Harry should be feeling without his best friend, and a bitter nostalgia started creeping up inside her, so she quickly shoved it aside, not wanting to feel down on Harry's birthday.

A while later Harry received a large box of french sweets from Bill and Fleur, a box of treacle tart from Mrs Weasley, and finally a necklace with a dragon fang from Charlie.

Harry grinned. "It says it's from a Hungarian Horntail."

No one else knew where they were, so Harry didn't get any other presents. He seemed happy though, happier than Hermione had seen him in a long time.

They packed a lunch of roast sandwiches, chips (that Hermione made from scratch) and the box of french sweets and went outside. The day was perfect for a picnic, as there wasn't any wind and light clouds shielded them from the heavy sunlight.

"Do you think I should get an earring?" Harry asked before taking a bite from his sandwich.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "You mean like Bill?"

Harry nodded. "When I first met him I thought it looked really cool and hot."

Harry went slightly red. He obviously hadn't meant to say that last part. Hermione smiled.

"Me too."

Harry looked at her with surprise.

"I don't mean the earring in particular but, you know, Bill is very good looking. I preferred Charlie, though."

Harry smiled amusedly. "Really? He doesn't seem like your type. I can see the appeal, though."

Hermione shrugged. "I didn't know what my type was, back then." She snorted and shook her head. "Imagine if Ron heard us talk about this."

Harry chucked. "He'd want to rip his ears out."

There was silence as both of them had their mouths full.

"What about Ron?" Harry asked, his voice lowered, his eyes on the sea.

Hermione swallowed and thought about possible answers. Harry had never asked about her and Ron, but Hermione had foreseen the question coming up eventually. She'd want to know too, if she was him.

"It's...I don't think it's going to…" She sighed and looked down at her sandwich. "I can't see myself with him right now. Who knows if maybe in the future that changes but...I reckon he feels the same way about me."

Harry nodded and gave her an understanding smile. "Just like me and Ginny."

"Yes. Those Weasleys sure are something, huh?"

"Yeah…"

Hermione had packed way too much food, and by the time they finished they were too stuffed for dessert. They both laid back on the blanket, looking up at the clouds and enjoying the sounds of the waves.

A couple of dots in the distance grew larger and larger as they approached them, and Hermione smiled when she recognize what they were.

Harry sat up, his neck craned to look at the sky.

"Are those…?" Harry mumbled and then gasped.

Two very large eagle owls landed in front of them, one carrying a long packet while the other carried a large bag.

Harry looked at Hermione and when he saw her almost giggling, his face broke into a smile. He unwrapped the long packet first and his jaw dropped a little. He pulled out two beautiful new brooms, Hermione didn't really know what model they were, she trusted Ginny with it, and he shook his head in disbelief. Then he opened the bag the other owl was carrying and pulled out a quaffle and a small snitch.

Harry's face lit up, making Hermione's heart lift. "Hermione this...this is perfect. I don't know how to thank you."

Harry hugged her for a while and Hermione felt like it was worth more thanks than she deserved.

"And two brooms! You're finally going to overcome your fear of flying!"

Hermione grimaced. "Err, well…"

Harry frowned. "What?"

"I just…" Hermione should have clarified sooner. "I thought you could ask Malfoy."

Harry's face went from slightly disappointed to completely bewildered. " _Malfoy_?"

"Why not? I bet he'd like to. And it'd be infinitely more fun than me."

"I know that," Harry said like it was obvious. "But do _you_ really want me to spend time with Malfoy?"

Hermione had no idea why Harry was saying it like that. "He's not so bad, is he? Do you think it's a bad idea?"

Harry looked thoughtful, like was deciding whether to say something or not. Finally, his shoulders slumped.

"I watched you two the other night," he said and Hermione's stomach dropped. "I saw as he dragged you away from the storm, and then you seemed so upset that I didn't ask about it. And when you didn't tell me, I assumed you were so angry that you simply...hated him."

"Oh." Hermione blushed. She definitely hadn't expected that. What did Harry think about her after seeing that? "I don't hate him, Harry. He's definitely very infuriating, but I was just ashamed of what happened that night."

Harry looked at her curiously as he stroked the smooth handle of one of the brooms. "Ashamed? Why?"

Against all prospects, Hermione's heart fluttered with strange, but affectionate feelings for Harry. The fact that he couldn't even see what was so terrible about that night made her want to hug him for hours. She smiled.

"I had to be rescued by _Malfoy_ ," she said, trying to keep her voice light. "I'm not saying that I would have died if he wasn't there but...what I was doing wasn't healthy."

To her surprise, Harry laughed. "You're ashamed that Malfoy made a healthier decision than you?" He then shook his head disbelievingly. "Hermione, have you seen the amount of stupid things I've been doing? And Malfoy is not exactly an example of healthy behaviours himself. We're all just doing as best as we can and we have our good and bad days. And I think it was really nice of him to help you that day."

Hermione never thought she'd hear Harry say Malfoy was nice, but he was right of course. In that moment, something caught her eye and she looked beyond Harry, to the far end of the beach.

"Well, there he is," she said lightly, making Harry look around to where she was looking. Malfoy was sitting on the sand as usual, looking at the ocean. "You should invite him for a friendly game."

Harry quirked an eyebrow at her, mockingly. "Friendly?"

"Fine, a death match, whatever you want." She rolled her eyes and pushed the brooms further into Harry's hands.

Harry got to his feet with both brooms, looking a little nervous but still eager. Hermione smiled encouragingly. "Go. And don't take no for an answer from that arrogant git."

Harry grinned and nodded before walking away and Hermione watched him get smaller and smaller until he and Malfoy met.

.

First Granger, and now Potter was walking up to him, strangely carrying not one, but two broomsticks. And nice broomsticks too, they looked like a couple of new Comets. Draco had no idea where this was going.

"Hello, Malfoy."

Potter looked like he was in a good mood, so naturally, Draco was immediately suspicious.

"Hello," he replied in an uncertain voice, eyeing Potter up and down. Was he there because of what happened the other night with Granger? But that wouldn't explain the broomsticks.

"Um," Potter started, looking around before his eyes settled on Draco again. "Hermione got me these," he raised the broomsticks. "And I thought you'd like to play some one-on-one Quidditch? She also got a Snitch and a Quaffle."

Draco looked up at him for a long time, blinking several times and trying to think of an appropriate response. "Granger got you all this just so you could play Quidditch with me? Is she that desperate to get rid of you for a few hours?"

Instead of glaring or rolling his eyes, Potter grinned shyly and Draco was even more weirded out. "She got it for my birthday, actually."

"Oh." Draco nodded in understanding. It was Potter's birthday then. He thought he should say something, but the words 'happy birthday, Potter' sounded too foreign in his tongue. He opened his mouth to try and force them out.

"Do you want to play, then?" Potter asked again before he could say anything, and even if it wasn't on purpose, Draco appreciated it.

He considered for a moment if there was anything that could go wrong if he accepted Potter's offer. Other than losing to him, that was.

They looked at each other for a while. Potter's smile was gone, and instead he looked like he was starting to get annoyed at Draco's lack of response, and Draco smirked, enjoying the familiarity of Potter's increasingly angered face.

"Sure, Potter."

They started walking back to where Hermione was, Potter still carrying both broomsticks. "I know it's your birthday and all, but are you planning on riding both broomsticks at the same time or are you going to share?"

Potter stopped walking, looking at Malfoy through narrowed eyes. "Sure, I'll share my broomstick with you, Malfoy. And what's more, I'll personally _stick_ _it_ somewhere for you."

Draco's eyes widened a bit in surprise and he felt his face flush, even more so when Potter flashed him a winning grin and then kept on walking.

Draco huffed angrily and followed him.

.

Harry wasn't sure how long they played for, but the sun was already setting when he and Malfoy were on their seventh game. They played a few games of just scoring the Quaffle through transfigured sand hoops, but the more they played, the more it was apparent that they both just wanted to release the snitch and see who would catch it first. They had both won twice each, and this was the definitive one, so even though it was becoming increasingly difficult to see, Harry was trying his hardest to find that snitch before Malfoy.

Hermione had fallen asleep watching them, and she was still peacefully curled up on the picnic blanket when Harry flew above her. He smiled down at her for a moment before continuing on his search. He had not seen the golden flash of the snitch for too long now, and he started to wonder if maybe it had gone too far for them to find it now. Malfoy was circling around the cottage, a determined look on his face. Harry sped up towards him in case he had seen something, but then Malfoy stopped in midair and looked at Harry.

"I think your faulty snitch is gone, Potter."

Harry stopped too, floating above the cottage a few feet from Malfoy. "How come it's faulty? It worked fine before."

Malfoy shrugged dismissively. The sun was almost gone by then and Harry was ready to call it a night. If they couldn't find it with light, they wouldn't be able to do it now. Plus, perhaps it was better to finish while they were even.

As if someone had read his thoughts, something swooshed by them at that precise moment, and even though Harry didn't manage to see what it was, he looked at Malfoy and his heart soared at the way his grey eyes were flashing with excitement.

They both sped up at the same time, flying fast in the direction the snitch had gone. Harry could see it in the distance; a tiny bright dot zigzagging above them. Malfoy was right next to him, grunting with effort and stretching his body over the broom. Suddenly, the snitch changed directions, going back the way it had come, flying over their heads and then diving down so fast it made Harry's head spin. He wondered if Malfoy had seen it, but he didn't have time to even glance at him, he had to get the snitch. He turned his broom around and started diving down, the snitch still dropping towards the back of the cottage. He noticed Malfoy form the corner of his eye, they were both side to side again. The snitch hit the ground, sand flying around it, but apparently snitches were not designed for this environment, because it was trapped under the sand, fluttering madly.

Harry knew there was no way he'd be able to stop before hitting the ground himself while still getting the snitch. No, he'd have to risk crashing down and possibly breaking his arm in the process. Malfoy was still diving at top speed like him, and Harry knew he wouldn't back down. It would all be a matter of who could calculate the exact place of their fall more accurately.

When he was just a few feet away, panic at what he was about to do dawned on him, and Harry instinctively jumped off his broom and threw himself forward, his arm stretched out towards the ground. He could feel Malfoy's body next to his.

The crash wasn't as bad as he had thought, and what hurt the most was the way his head knocked against's Malfoy's as they both landed, arms and heads firsts. He could feel grainy sand all around him, in his eyes, mouth, ears, and scraping painfully against his arms.

But then something fluttered in his hand and he couldn't help but smile, even though it meant getting more sand inside his mouth.

He got to his knees slowly, spitting out sand and shaking his head so it got off his face. His glasses were gone, they probably landed somewhere else and were broken, but he didn't care: he'd got the snitch.

Malfoy was getting up too, and when Harry brushed enough sand away from his eyes to actually open them, he saw that Malfoy was already on his feet. He looked a right mess just like Harry, his hair disheveled and sand all over him, but unlike Harry, he wasn't smiling.

He was livid.

Harry got to his feet too, dropping the snitch in his hand and staring at Malfoy in confusion. He knew Malfoy would get mad at not winning, but the way he panted, his jaw set and fists clenched in fury were _too much_ and Harry didn't understand.

"Mal-"

"Shut up!" Malfoy yelled, taking a step closer to Harry. Harry backed down. "Shut up, Potter! It's bad enough that you won, you don't have to gloat every time you do!"

Harry shook his head, frowning. "I wasn't going to-"

"Why do you always have to win?" Malfoy seethed, his eyes so narrowed that Harry could barely see them. Besides, he didn't have his glasses and was still shaken from the fall. Malfoy advanced on him more and Harry continued to back down. He didn't have his wand, he had left it with Hermione, but he was certain Malfoy did have his own, even though he hadn't pulled it out yet.

"I don't! Just calm down!" Harry said desperately, trying to talk some sense into him. Malfoy had backed him down against the back wall of the cottage and Harry felt something bustling inside of his chest. He didn't have a way of escaping. He could call out to Hermione, but he wasn't sure she'd hear him, and Malfoy could still hurt him by then.

Malfoy looked down at Harry. His height had never intimidated Harry before, but now it felt like a lot, specially combined with the menacing look on Malfoy's face. Seeing as Malfoy still hadn't drawn out his wand, Harry guessed he wanted a more physical fight, but Harry wasn't sure he stood a chance. He wasn't angry and riled like Malfoy, who looked like he could fight a giant on his own right now. Harry was just confused and a little scared.

"Then why do you always do?" Malfoy asked, his voice low and calculated. He looked at Harry like he wanted to burn him alive just with his eyes.

Harry raised himself a little, trying not to let Malfoy know he affected him. "What did you want me to do? Let you win?"

Malfoy grunted, low in his throat. "I want you to stop being so bloody perfect!"

Harry's mouth fell open at this. What the hell was Malfoy talking about? He thought Harry was perfect? He thought the person standing in front of him, with faulty vision, scratched up arms, and a mouthful of sand was perfect? He considered Harry's depression, nightmares, and anxiety a sign of perfection? Someone who had run away from everything because he was too fucked up to continue living a normal life...perfect?

Harry stared at Malfoy's enraged eyes and he felt again something trashing inside of his chest, trying to get out. "Perfect?" Harry repeated, his voice but a whisper. "I'll show you perfect."

And he pulled down Malfoy by the scruff of his ridiculous turtleneck and crashed their mouths together.

The thing inside of him seemed to calm down as he held Malfoy down against him, and for a moment everything was still and peaceful. But then Malfoy's lips moved against his own and time started ticking again, fast.

Harry's hands kept clutching at Malfoy's jumper, pulling him closer and closer as Malfoy's own hands cupped Harry's face, holding him in place as he continued to kiss him. There was still sand in their mouths, and Harry could feel it rasping against his tongue and lips and palate, as though he'd never get rid of it; he'd have to live with the sand forever and it would be worth it.

Harry could feel Malfoy's rage pouring out of him, pressing his body hard against Harry's, digging his fingers on Harry's jaw and neck, biting and pulling Harry's bottom lip into his mouth. All the intensity was starting to make Harry feel dizzy, but he didn't want to stop, he didn't want to think, because as soon as he thought this over, it would end.

Malfoy's hands dropped and he placed them on Harry's hips, gripping hard. The sensation traveled up Harry's spine until he felt it at the back of his throat and he couldn't help but gasp, involuntarily breaking the kiss. He kept his eyes closed as he panted, their hands still not letting go of each other. He tried to open his eyes but couldn't, not yet. He didn't know what he would find there, and he felt content there where he was; basking in the afterglow of the most intense kiss of his life.

It couldn't last forever, though, and when Malfoy shifted slightly, his grip loosening on Harry's hips, Harry opened his eyes.

Malfoy's eyes were open too, and Harry felt relief wash over him when he couldn't find a trace of anger in them. His lips were very red, and Harry guessed that the sand must have helped in getting them even redder and puffier than a normal kiss would have.

It dawned on him how horrible the idea of snogging someone with sand in their mouths sounded, but he couldn't imagine how the kiss they had could have possibly been any better.

They slowly started to let go of each other, and Malfoy stepped back. Harry had never seen him so disheveled in his life, but he thought it suited him. Malfoy looked at him with confusion and perhaps a little shame.

"I'm sorry," Harry blurted out for lack of a better thing to do. He had started this whole thing after all, even though he didn't really feel sorry. Not when Malfoy was looking so unbelievably good, and not angry in the least.

Malfoy didn't answer, he merely continued to stand there, as if shocked speechless by his own actions.

Harry took a small step forward. "Malfoy."

Malfoy clicked into motion and took several steps back, stumbling a bit in the sand. His eyes started widening in increasing horror, and Harry's heart sank when Malfoy stuffed his hand inside the pocket of his trousers.

He wanted to say something, to ask him not to leave, or to apologize again, but before he could decide on what to do, there was a loud crack and Malfoy was gone.


	8. Haze

**Chapter Eight - Haze**

Draco couldn't sleep.

It had been almost three days and he still hadn't slept a wink. He usually managed an hour or two at least, but this time his usual amount of sleeping potion was not cutting it.

Draco looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. His skin was slightly greyish but his eyes were bloodshot and he looked like he was going to be sick any moment now. He was utterly disgusted with himself and felt like punching the mirror, but he knew he didn't have the strength.

He opened the cabinet door behind the window and grabbed the nearest bottle of sleeping potion. The entire cabinet was full of them. Draco uncorked it without thinking about it too much and downed it all in one go, tipping his head back for every last drop.

The edges of his vision started to blur and blacken, and a slight panic surged through him; if he didn't make it to the bed, he was going to pass out right there. He forced his legs to move as fast as possible, his head swimming more and more with each step, until he was close enough to throw himself on the bed clumsily.

He was out cold for nineteen hours.

.

Hermione stared at the open book in front of her. Its pages were so white that it was almost blinding, reflecting the sunlight coming in through the window. She had had that same page open for over fifteen minutes now, but not a word that she had read had sunk in. It was unbelievably frustrating, because she didn't know how to deal with something like this. She had always been able to finish books and she used to have trouble stopping but now, it was as if reading had lost its charm, and she couldn't get it back. She had tried to figure out why; maybe she didn't feel like she had to prove herself anymore...but she had also loved reading before Hogwarts so that didn't seem likely. Maybe she had read so many books in her short life that her brain needed a break, but she couldn't see why it would need a break from something she enjoyed. Maybe her subconscious didn't want her to get distracted instead of thinking about the things that had been haunting her ever since the war ended...

She closed L'histoire de Beauxbaton and placed it carefully next to her. Harry was sitting on the sofa on her other side, a french cookbook open in front of him. He looked up at Hermione with a sad smile.

"Nothing, huh?"

She shook her head, not looking at him. It was really embarrassing not being able to do something as basic and as integral to her as reading, but she couldn't hide it from Harry.

He closed his book as well and scooched closer to her, throwing an arm around her shoulder. "You don't have to read to get by, you know. I barely did during my entire life and I turned out fine."

Harry had been a lot more attentive and supportive lately, probably because his mood had improved for whatever reason, and now every time he saw that Hermione was visibly sad or troubled, he would try to help and make her feel better. And while Hermione appreciated his efforts, it made her feel even worse because he seemed to be getting better with each passing day and while she was stuck in an endless cycle of poor sleep, crying, and frustration.

Hermione smiled a little, even as her eyes stung with repressed tears. "Image what you'd have done if you read."

She continued to look down at her feet, wondering what would happen if Harry was ready to leave, to get back to their former lives. Would she be able to go with him?

She could tell Harry was looking at her, probably thinking of ways to help her.

"Hermione," his voice was so soft, so warm and familiar that she wanted to wrap herself init and force herself to feel better. He exhaled. "I have to tell you something."

Hermione's head snapped up so fast that she felt her neck twist painfully. This was it. Harry was going to tell her that he wanted to go back. And despite thinking about it two seconds earlier, when the realization hit her she discovered that she was not ready. She couldn't face everyone again, not when she felt she had only gotten worse since she came here. Not when she couldn't even pick up a bloody book without crying. Not when it felt like everyone had moved on but her. Even Harry, who had gone through the worst of it all, was already in good condition.

She was not ready.

Harry looked serious and Hermione's stomach gave a horrible lurch. She wanted to tell him to just give her more time. Maybe with a few more days she could get used to the idea of going back and then it wouldn't feel so threatening.

Harry's eyes scanned her face, probably noticing her panicked expression. He gulped.

"I kissed Malfoy."

Hermione heard Harry's words, but they were so shockingly different from what she was expecting that her brain refused to properly process them. Harry. Malfoy. A kiss.

A kiss?

She frowned deeply. Was Harry joking? Was this his way of cheering her up? But Harry still looked serious and his cheeks began to blush in her silence. Hermione's jaw dropped.

"What?" she asked in disbelief, her voice hoarse.

Harry nodded with a shy smile. "The night of my birthday," he confirmed. "We were fighting at first because well, I got the snitch and he was _furious_ , Hermione. I'd never seen him like that before, and before I knew it, I was kissing him."

Hermione felt lightheaded with this new information. Harry and Malfoy? "How?" she asked, trying to imagine how they got from fighting to kissing.

Harry's blush was even deeper now. "Well, he said something about me being perfect and that made me really mad and I just…" he trailed off, looking thoughtful. "I had to show him that I wasn't perfect so… I swear this made sense in my head at the time." He laughed nervously. "I pulled him down and kissed him. And he kissed me back."

For a moment Hermione had been relieved that Harry was not telling her that he'd be heading back to Britain and she thought she should be glad that this wasn't the case. So why were these news not making her feel any better?

Harry looked at her eagerly, as if waiting for her opinion. Hermione tried hard to remove the frown from her face. "So… You and Malfoy?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. He definitely did kiss me back, but then he looked horrified and disapparated. I haven't even seen him since. Have you?"

Harry seemed really curious, but Hermione realized that she hadn't seen Malfoy since Harry's birthday either. She shook her head.

"It makes sense, of course. I mean, it's Malfoy." Harry shook his head as if telling himself he was crazy. "It's Malfoy. It's Draco Malfoy."

"I know who he is, Harry."

Hermione was surprised at her own snappy tone, so she tried to pass it off as a joke and huffed a laugh. "So um…" She cleared her throat. "How was it?"

Harry's face split into a sheepish grin. "It was incredible. I mean I had never…" he broke off again, staring at empty space as if remembering. "Who knew Malfoy could be so intense?"

Hermione felt something strange burning inside of her and making her shiver at the same time. Was it… jealousy?

Harry looked like he wanted to continue talking about it, and even though part of Hermione really wanted to hear more details about Harry and Malfoy's kiss, a bigger, louder part of her was telling her to run, to find a quiet place and be alone.

She stood up abruptly. "I think I'll go shower now."

Harry seemed taken aback, but he nodded nonetheless and leaned back into the sofa again. Hermione felt guilty.

"Harry…" she mumbled and he looked up at her. "Are you happy?"

He smiled thoughtfully. "I know he probably hates me even more than before but strangely… I do feel sort of happy."

Hermione smiled, genuinely this time. If there was something that she would never take for granted, it was Harry's happiness.

She took a long shower, locking herself in the bathroom for over an hour. No matter how hard she tried, Harry and Malfoy's kiss was all she could think about. What would happen next? If Malfoy truly hated Harry, then this would all be a strange, one time occurrence of their time here. But what if he didn't? What if he and Harry got together?

Hermione had gotten so used to always being with Harry that just the prospect of not having him around once he and Malfoy started...dating, was making her anxious. If she hadn't been able to get better with his help, she would be absolutely hopeless without him. She could always go to Romania or Bulgaria or wherever Ron was. She knew he would help her no matter what.

There was just the fact that thinking about going anywhere without Harry was making her cry harder than she had in weeks.

She turned up the shower even more, drowning out her sobs and hoping Harry wouldn't hear her.

.

More days went by without any sign of Malfoy. Harry considered going over to his place, just to find out if he had gone home or simply decided never to show his face again. But Harry never did; if Malfoy was so thoroughly ashamed about what had happened, then it was probably best that they simply forget about it, even if it meant Harry felt disappointment sinking into him day by day, like heavy stones weighing him down.

Then there was Hermione, who seemed if possible, even sadder than usual. Harry just had no idea what to do to help her.

She was currently outside per his suggestion, soaking up some sun and fresh air. She hadn't left the house during the day in a while.

"Harry!"

Hermione's voice had a panicked edge that made Harry's hair stand on end and his heart raced. He dropped the glass he was holding and ran out at once. Hermione stood on the sand, one hand reaching out to Harry as her head moved back and forth between him and the other end of the beach. Harry took her hand and didn't have time to ask what was happening before Hermione disapparated them.

He knew they hadn't traveled far when his feet landed on sand. Hermione was no longer by his side, as she had thrown herself forward to kneel next to an unmoving body.

 _Malfoy's_ _body_.

Harry's insides were twisting with dread and the familiar feeling that reminded him of the war was so sickening that he almost threw up right there, but then the rush of adrenaline became bigger when he realized that Malfoy didn't look dead.

But he didn't look good.

He joined Hermione who was checking Malfoy's pulse and waving her wand over him. "What's wrong with him?" Harry asked, his voice high.

"I'm not sure," Hermione rushed. "But he's alive. Help me carry him so when we disapparate he doesn't hit his head."

Harry hadn't even waited for Hermione to finish her sentence, he put one arm under Malfoy's knees and the other under his shoulders and with great effort got to his feet, carrying Malfoy's definitely not slight body.

Hermione placed her hand over Harry's shoulder and disapparated them back.

They landed right in the living room inside the cottage and Harry only had to bend so he could lay Malfoy down on the sofa. Hermione kneeled next to him again, this time pulling back Malfoy's eyelids carefully with her fingers. Harry stood back and watched with trepidation how bad Malfoy looked. He had managed to lose an alarming amount of weight since Harry last saw him, and the bags under his eyes were so dark that contrasted starkly with his pale skin.

Hermione looked over her shoulder at Harry with concern. "I think he must have overdosed on sleeping potions."

Harry's eyes went wide. "Do we need to take him to St. Mungos?"

She shook her head. "I don't think it'll be necessary. He's basically in a really deep sleep right now. And, he looks like he hadn't slept in days."

Harry kneeled down next to Hermione, looking over Malfoy's still form. His chest rose and fell slowly with each breath, and it made Harry feel calmer. Hermione was looking at him too.

"I saw him apparate and he immediately went down, dropping to the floor like a puppet. He must have realized what he'd done and tried to get help," Hermione explained, and felt Malfoy's forehead with the back of her hand. "He's freezing."

Harry couldn't believe Malfoy had done this to himself.

He pulled out his wand and summoned a blanket from a chair, draping it over Malfoy. Hermione looked at Harry with a sad smile.

"He'll be alright," she said and placed a hand over Harry's.

Harry nodded. "He's such an idiot."

Hermione shrugged, getting to her feet. "We're all doing stupid things, remember?"

Harry looked up at her with a thankful smile as she walked over to the kitchen.

"Tea?"

.

Draco's eyelids hurt. How could they hurt so bad? He winced as he slowly managed to open his eyes, and then it took a while to focus in the darkness. He hated waking up, because it meant he wouldn't be able to sleep again for who knows how long and after who knows how many bottles of sleeping potion.

He briefly wondered if wishing not to wake up was _too_ fucked up.

When his eyes finally adjusted to the light, Draco frowned and his heart jumped. That wasn't his ceiling.

He sat up, his back hurting terribly at the effort, but all he could focus on was the fact that he was not in his bedroom. He didn't recognize the furniture around him, and when he looked down, he realized he wasn't even in a bed. He was about to pull out his wand when something started him. It was a small noise, but a human noise, and Draco looked around at the source. He almost jumped out of his skin when he saw two people on the floor next to him.

Then he remembered that Potter and Granger existed.

It dawned on him that this was their living room, and a few memories started flashing in front of Draco's eyes. The sleeping potion. The amount of sleeping potion. His realization of going overboard. The panic, the scrambling for his wand, disapparating as his brain was shutting off, and then…

He couldn't remember anything else. But clearly, he had managed to get help from them, otherwise he wouldn't be there now, looking at Potter and Granger sleeping oh so peacefully.

And so close to each other.

Draco shook his head slightly and felt a jolt of pain that traveled down his spine. His body had not recovered enough during his overdosed sleep, and dread hung over him like a dark cloud. What would it take for him to sleep now?

He moved slowly to the bottom edge of the sofa, attempting to leave as soon as possible. It was bad enough that they had seen him in such a deplorable state, but he didn't want to deal with the aftermath of being rescued by two Gryffindors with a hero-complex. His head pounded painfully with each movement and he had to resist the urge to hiss and curse. He managed to get to his feet, stretching with difficulty.

"Malfoy?"

Fuck.

Potter had roused, and he shook Granger's shoulder slightly. "He's up," he whispered and sat up properly, looking up at Draco through heavy lids.

He looked gorgeous.

Granger sat bolt upright. "What?" she asked in a rush, her eyes widening significantly until they fell on Draco. She relaxed. "Oh. Malfoy. How do you feel?"

Granger's question floated in the air between them all, as well as their expectant looks towards Draco.

"I'm okay. I have to leave," he said stiffly and then reconsidered. "Thank you for… Helping me."

He made to leave, but no more had he taken a step that both Granger and Potter had rushed over, blocking his way. He sighed.

"There is no way you're leaving in that state!" Granger exclaimed. "Get back in bed!"

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't tell me what to do, Granger." He tried to push past her but Potter stopped him with one hand over his shoulder.

Draco had tried not to look at him, because he didn't want to remember what it was like to look at Potter from such a short distance. He wanted to forget. But he didn't want to let Potter know that he was avoiding his gaze, so he looked at Potter's green eyes and sneered.

"Hermione's right. We're not letting you leave."

Draco looked from one to the other with disbelief and then laughed coldly. "Why are you under the impression that you can control what I do?"

He ignored the slight pang of guilt at their hurt expressions, specially Potter's, because Granger recovered quickly.

She glared at him, her nostrils flaring. "You are such an ungrateful git!" She shoved a finger on his chest. "After everything, you're going to treat us like this? You're going to run off _again_?"

Again? When had Draco run off from them? If anything, he had been there. He stayed through their ridiculous tea party, he invited them to his house, he kept Granger from fucking drowning, and he spent all day with Potter on his birthday.

Potter. His birthday.

Flashes of the kiss flooded his mind and Draco's head pounded even worse now. He had tried his hardest to ignore it ever since it happened.

"I said thank you, in case you don't remember." He pulled out his wand. "Now I'm leaving."

Granger clamped a hand down around Draco's wrist. "Good. Me too," she said menacingly.

Draco hadn't really been angry up until now. He mostly wanted to be alone and forget that these two found him passed out on the beach. But now he was seriously considering cursing Granger.

She and Draco were on a stare down when suddenly Potter clamped a hand down on Granger's shoulder.

"Let him go."

Granger looked at Potter as if he was insane.

"If he doesn't want to stay, we're not going to force him," Potter said calmly, talking to Granger as if Draco wasn't there.

Now _they_ seemed to be on a stare down, and Draco thought he might be able to break free from Granger's grip then, but he didn't even need to struggle, because Granger let him go, still looking at Potter.

Draco stepped back, for a moment apprehensive to see if they would still try to stop him, but they wouldn't look at him. Feeling suddenly ignored, he kind of wanted to stay and see what would happen between them.

But he couldn't. He stepped back, drawing their attention back to him. As they were now letting him go without a fight, it seemed too dramatic to disapparate right there, so he cleared his throat and headed for the door, avoiding the temptation of looking over his shoulder, and then finally closing the door behind him.

The warm air reminded him that he had a raging headache. Draco walked slowly away from the house until he considered he was far enough to apparate. With his wand in hand, he breathed a deep sigh and thought mournfully about the long night ahead of him.


	9. Waves

**Chapter Nine - Waves**

Hermione paced back and forth, her teeth grinding hard and her veins pumping blood that felt like it was boiling.

"That slimy ferret!" she fumed, twirling her wand in her hand. "We should have let him there in the sand!"

Harry raised his eyebrows at her, "You don't mean that."

Hermione bit her tongue. Of course she didn't, but she was too angry to admit it. Harry on the other hand, was perfectly calmed, sitting at the sofa where Malfoy had been sleeping only minutes ago, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Hermione walk around the living room.

"He can't treat you this way!" Hermione exclaimed, stopping in front of Harry and moving her arms around.

Harry shrugged. "He wasn't doing it to me, exactly."

"He knew what I was saying when I talked about leaving again. I saw it in his eyes," Hermione said, shaking her head.

"That's alright, then," said Harry before yawning. "If he knew and he still wanted to leave, then I was right by not stopping him."

Hermione couldn't believe Malfoy. They, and Harry in particular, had been nothing but nice to him, especially considering how fast they forgave him for all the crap he pulled during their school years.

But Hermione was not going to forgive and forget that easily again.

"Well, there's no way I can sleep now," she said in a rush while summoning a blanket. "I'll be outside if you need me, Harry."

Harry nodded, already looking sleepy. Hermione knew he didn't enjoy nights and would try to fall asleep as soon as possible. She smiled at him and left.

But she didn't stop in front of the house, and she didn't stop in front of the ocean. She kept on walking, clutching the blanket in one hand and moving as fast as she could on the sand. Harry would hear her disapparating, and walking was doing wonders to ease her rage so she could think clearly. She was just going to let Malfoy know, calmly, that if he ever wanted the rest of the Wizarding world to accept him, he had to stop being a prat.

Calmly.

When she arrived at the abandoned-looking house, she stopped. She didn't know if she could walk inside again since she had already done it once, but she had a feeling that it would be impossible to get in without Malfoy, so she simply knocked the door.

But of course, he didn't answer. Hermione knocked again, harder now. She didn't care how long it took, she would get him to open.

After a while, she started throwing rocks at the windows, some of which looked like they were already broken, but she still heard the glass shattering. She smiled to herself.

This continued for a while, Hermione guessed about twenty minutes of knocks, shouts, and rocks until the front door finally opened.

"If you're trying to murder me, Granger, why don't you go ahead and get it over with?"

Hermione barely registered what he said, because she ran towards him as soon as the door opened, knowing that touching Malfoy was the only way inside. She pushed him and he stumbled back, nearly losing balance and falling. It was remarkable how easy it was for her to do this and she thought it must have been because he was very weak at the moment. But Hermione was inside and that was all that mattered.

Malfoy pushed her back with a nasty sneer and spun on his heel, walking away from her and into another room.

"Whatever you have to do, do it soon. Despite what you must think, I don't have all the time in the word," his voice called from another room and Hermione frowned, but followed him anyway.

Malfoy was in some type of storage room, tall shelves filled with all kind of things; old books, broken decorations, dusty boxes and containers, and most interesting to Hermione, potions.

She walked in further, inspecting the curious objects around her. They perfectly matched the outer appearance of the house; they looked like they had been abandoned there ages ago, and Hermione guessed this room was probably always locked so people wouldn't found out how messy Malfoys could be.

Malfoy was predictably rummaging through a large box of potions in a bottom shelf, looking frustrated. Hermione's anger ebbed a little; she was certain Malfoy wouldn't be doing this in front of her if he wasn't absolutely desperate.

"All of those look expired," Hermione said, her voice loud in the small room.

Malfoy shrugged and kept on looking. "I just need enough until my next delivery arrives."

Hermione put her hands on her hips and scowled. "And what happens when you go overboard again and end up half-dead on the shore?"

Malfoy looked up at her, his eyes tired and very red. "You know I wasn't half-dead." He returned to the potions, picking up a blue bottle that had seen better days. He swung it around, the liquid sloshing inside. "And that only happened because the sleep potions I was using weren't good enough. I'm getting another brand tomorrow."

Hermione shook her head in exasperation. "That doesn't matter if you're still going to use them every time you want to sleep! You're not a _complete_ idiot, you have to know you're getting caught in an endless addiction cycle!"

When he looked up again, there was something akin to amusement in his features. "I already _am_ in an endless addition cycle."

In the end he decided for a deep red bottle that seemed like it was never opened. He got to his feet with the bottle in his hand and walked past Hermione. She followed him again.

"Why do you continue to do it, then? Don't you have the will to fight it?" she asked, hoping that by arguing she could get him to stop ignoring her. "Are you seriously that weak?"

Draco stopped and spun around, glaring at her. "Why do _you_ continue to be depressed, then?" His voice was soft and clear.

Hermione stuttered. "That's...that's different."

One of Malfoy's blonde eyebrows rose in a perfect arc. "Oh, do tell?"

Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times, and Malfoy turned around again before she could come up with a response. She balled her fists furiously.

"At least I'm not too coward to ask for help!" she called as she caught up with him. They had entered the kitchen.

Draco scoffed. "What? Potter? He's just as depressed as you are!" He took a glass out of a cabinet and set it down on the counter. "Did you honestly come here to give me a morality lecture?"

Hermione watched as he slowly poured the dark potion into the glass until it was full. Hermione eyed it skeptically, it didn't look right. Malfoy picked up the glass and brought it to his lips, but Hermione took a hold of his wrist, stopping him.

"I don't care about morality," Hermione said as he looked at her with disdain. She wasn't even angry anymore, she just wanted to talk some sense into him. "I care about you."

Malfoy's expression changed as he put the glass back down on the counter. He stood there, looking at Hermione blankly like he was trying to figure out if she was joking or not, and then when she said nothing and continued to look serious, he shook his head softly.

"Shut up, Granger."

His tone was neither mocking nor aggressive and for some reason it made Hermione's chest feel tight.

Slowly and carefully Hermione moved her hand towards the glass, still holding Malfoy's gaze and hoping he wouldn't notice. "Harry cares too," she said, and stared intently to see if some kind of emotion showed in his face at the mention of Harry's name.

His face hardened.

"I said, shut up." He was angrier now, but also significantly more emotional. It sounded to Hermione as someone who knew he was being lied too and was hurt by it.

She shook her head. "I won't. We care, and I think you know it."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes slightly, but before he could say anything, Hermione wrapped her fingers around the glass and took it with her as she took several steps back. Malfoy's eyes widened in a fraction of a second and she could see the urgency in them, and then the subtle and unspoken warning as he raised a finger at her as if saying 'don't you dare.'

But Hermione was very daring.

With her free hand she pulled out her wand and pointed it at the glass. "You're going to hurt yourself if you drink this, I'm sure of it."

Malfoy was visibly shaking. "You don't know everything."

"I know what it's like to be unable to sleep," she said calmly, thinking of all the hours she had spent staring at the dark ceiling or running away from nightmares. "And I know that I feel less lonely when you're out there too, experiencing the same."

Something strange flashed across Malfoy's eyes, but it was gone before Hermione could figure out what it was. "It is _not_ the same!" he shouted, taking a step towards her. Hermione stood her ground. "You can't possibly compare what your future will be like in the Wizarding world versus what it'll be like for me!"

Hermione cocked her head to the side and smiled a humorless smile. "Just like you can't possibly compare what I went through as a muggleborn versus what you went through as a pureblood."

Malfoy's shoulders sagged slightly, but his face didn't change. He blinked several times, still through narrowed eyes. "You're trying to guilt me into not taking the potion. Just stop it, Granger!"

Hermione made a frustrated grunt. "I'm just trying to tell you that I understand and that I care!"

"No, you don't!" Malfoy shouted back.

"Yes, I do!"

"No, you-"

"Evanesco!"

Hermione saw disappointment fill Malfoy's eyes just as the potion vanished.

They stood frozen for a second, Malfoy's brain probably trying to process what just happened while Hermione waited for his reaction. He clearly didn't believe she'd actually do it, so she was ready for an attack.

But Malfoy's face fell, and then it fell some more, and when he turned away abruptly Hermione was almost certain she had seen tears.

It was Hermione's turn to stare in disbelief.

Malfoy...crying? Her heart shrunk at the realization of just how tired and hopeless he must truly feel and for a moment she wished she hadn't gotten rid of the potion.

"Malfoy?" she said softly, trying to come up with ways to make him feel better. She took a few small steps in his direction. "I'm sorry...I had to do it. You are heavily addicted to it."

Malfoy spun back, and though he wasn't crying, his eyes were watery. "Big fucking deal, Granger! We're all addicted to something! Stop pretending you're better than me just because you don't deal with your insomnia!"

She stared dumbfounded at him. For someone who looked so tired, he sure had a lot of energy for bickering.

"I do deal with it! I just don't rely on dangerous sleeping potions! Not everybody is addicted to something!"

"Well, you are! You're addicted to Potter!" Draco shouted before walking away angrily.

Hermione's jaw had dropped and she slammed the glass down on the counter before stalking off after him. Malfoy was standing by the open front door, arms crossed over his chest. Hermione ignored the obvious hint about him wanting her to leave.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked in a dangerously low voice.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "You heard me. You're addicted to Savior Potter. You can't go anywhere without him, despite the fact that you're not even a couple. You even chose him over Weasley."

Hermione tried. She really did, but it was no use, she knew she looked heavily affected at his words. Malfoy's mouth twitched, knowing he'd struck a chord.

"I didn't choose anyone! Ron wanted to go one way and we wanted to go a different one. There's nothing wrong with it." As she was saying it, she knew it made sense, but her voice sounded increasingly distressed. Did Ron think that she'd chosen Harry over him, again? The last time she saw him he seemed to be alright with the idea of leaving alone while she and Harry left together, but if even Malfoy who was an outsider seemed to think this was the case…

"Just face it, Granger," Malfoy drawled as he walked closer to her, apparently too delighted with the fact that he was getting to her to remember that he had wanted her to leave the house. "You can't go a day without Potter. You're completely addicted to his presence."

Hermione dug her fingernails into her palms. "I am not."

She wasn't. She was certain she'd be okay without Harry, but she simply chose not be without him. Just because the thought of being alone was daunting it didn't mean that it was specifically because of Harry. It could be about anyone.

Malfoy nodded.

Hermione shook her head.

She guessed her brain had stopped working for a second. It had to, because there was no other way of explaining why she had flung herself forward, got on her tiptoes, and planted a kiss on Malfoy's lips, her hands clinging to his shoulders.

When her brain regained function, Hermione immediately stepped back, mortified. It had barely lasted a second. Maybe if she tried, she could pretend nothing had happened.

Except that Malfoy was now closing the distance between them without taking his eyes away from Hermione's lips.

And Hermione couldn't pretend.

She couldn't.

They embraced each other at the same time, like waves crashing together, Hermione throwing her arms around Malfoy's neck as he pulled her closer, arms on her back. He deepened the kiss as soon as he could, but despite the urgency, Hermione could feel Malfoy's softness throughout, as if his anger had evaporated upon contact with her.

Her fingers found his hair and Malfoy made a low sound in his throat, which encouraged Hermione to keep caressing the back of his head and neck, feeling him shiver slightly. The kiss slowed down, Malfoy taking his time to nip at Hermione's bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth softly and then letting go. He pecked her three times and then found his way to the corner of her mouth, making a path from there to her jaw. Hermione's mouth hung open, taking in jagged breaths and feeling Malfoy's warm kisses on her neck and then…

He had stopped. He dropped his forehead on Hermione's shoulder and she opened her eyes. She didn't know what to do now that the kiss had ended, but it was clear that Malfoy didn't want to let go, as he hugged her even tighter when her fingers stopped moving. Hermione realized how strangely intimate the position they were in was; with her cradling the back of his head and him finding solace in the crook of her neck, holding her closer than anyone had in awhile.

Finding comfort.

So she tried to stop thinking about how weird it was that she had kissed Malfoy after Harry had done it too, and she simply ran her fingers through his hair, hoping that it wasn't too bad that she wanted him to feel better.

After a couple of minutes Malfoy shifted and straightened up, his arms dropping to his sides. Hermione let go of him too and felt like avoiding his eyes, but she forced herself to look up. He seemed more confused than she felt, and that was saying something.

"Maybe you should go," he said in a tired voice and moved aside so Hermione's path to the door was clear. He stared down at his feet.

Hermione nodded softly. "Just...just don't drink any of those potions. Please."

His eyes flickered to her but he didn't say anything. Hermione sighed.

"Promise it." She stepped in front of him again. "Promise it, Draco Malfoy!"

Malfoy rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Merlin, you're so aggravating. I promise. Just go."

Hermione nodded and walked to the door, looking over her shoulder once before closing it behind her. She noticed on the ground the blanket she had brought with herself and picked it up, thinking of Harry again.

What would Harry say?

.

Draco was lying in bed, still as a rock as he gaped at the ceiling. He felt as though he had just been slapped in the face, repeatedly.

He kept his promise and did not drink any of the sleeping potions or calming draughts that were abandoned in that old cupboard. Not only did he feel inexplicably bad about the prospect of lying to Granger, but he also was less anxious about the whole thing after she left.

He hated to think it had anything to do with that kiss.

He grimaced slightly as the kiss flashed in his mind, feeling that odd slapping feeling again. He couldn't believe he had now allowed two thirds of the Gryffindor golden trio to kiss him. What was next? Was Weasley going to appear now and snog him too?

Draco shuddered at the thought.

But now that it had happened with Granger too, he no longer felt the threatening panic that had drove him crazy all last week. He had been aware of what he was doing this time, and he couldn't deny to himself that he had liked it. Both times.

As he kissed Granger, he remembered Potter and he knew that it hadn't been a mistake.

It was realization that had slapped him so hard across the face, and he didn't know how to come to terms with the horrifying reality that might fancy them both. It was too much for him to handle, and he couldn't let it go any further. He had to stop getting himself in situations where a kiss or anything else might happen. He had to stop seeing them.

He had to forget about them.


	10. Crabs

**Chapter 10 - Crabs**

Harry's eyes followed Hermione up and down as she rose a few feet above the ground on his broom, and then came right back down.

"Hold it with one hand on the front and the other closer to you, that way is easier to maintain balance," he told her as he floated on the other broom.

She did as he said and seemed more comfortable, but only for a second because she leaned forward too much and zoomed straight into the sand. Harry held back laughter.

Hermione grunted and cursed before getting to her feet, hair wild around her. "Who was the first idiot to hold a cleaning tool between their legs and say 'hey, you know what this needs? A hovering charm!'"

Harry raised his eyebrows in amusement. "You probably know."

"Henry Radford, 1878," she sighed in defeat and picked up the broom again. "These brooms are too sensitive, I should start on a simpler one."

"Oh no, you're not getting away from this that easily. You promised you'd let me teach you."

Hermione mounted the broom again. "I just think that flying is one of those things people like me always admire but never actually accomplish. When I was younger I thought surfing seemed pretty incredible." She looked out to the sea. "But I knew I would never actually learn how to do it."

Harry smiled, thinking that Hermione looked nice with sand on her hair. He remembered Malfoy and shook his head rapidly. "This can be the incredible thing you finally learn how to do. Just because you're not naturally good at it doesn't mean is not worth trying."

"I also have a really good teacher." She grinned at him and then her eyes widened slightly and she gasped. "Harry! That's what you should do!"

Harry frowned. "Do?"

"Teach! You should be a teacher, like a proper one!"

"What are you talking about, Hermione?" he shook his head in amusement. "What would I even teach?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Flying. DADA. Something that makes you happy." At his skeptical expression, Hermione continued. "You already have experience with the DA, and if I'm not mistaken, you rather enjoyed it, didn't you?"

He couldn't deny that he had, but teaching his friends and classmates was different than having an actual career in teaching. But Hermione looked so eager that he knew from experience she was ready to defend her opinion for as long as it took.

"It's not an entire terrible idea," he said truthfully and hoped that was enough for her.

"I'm just saying, you should think about it."

Harry nodded. "Now, kick off again and I'll teach you how to make turns."

They practiced for a while, and even though Hermione kept falling off, he could see her start to have fun while she was on the air.

There was a loud whistling that made both of them turn their heads. "I knew you were bad but I had no idea how much," drawled a familiar voice.

They had been so busy flying that they didn't hear Malfoy apparating. He stood on the sand below them, looking up at Hermione, who flushed red. Harry didn't know she cared so much about what Malfoy thought of her flying skills.

"I haven't practiced in years!" she called to him and he smirked.

Hermione and Harry slowly descended to where Malfoy stood. He looked better than the last time Harry had seen him, but he had been nearly comatose then. His skin still looked pale, but a normal, healthy amount. His eyes were no longer bloodshot and his body looked like it could stand on its own.

Harry didn't know what to say, and apparently neither did Hermione, who stood shifting from one foot to the other and looking uncomfortable. Malfoy's smirk was gone, and instead he seemed like he was bracing himself for something.

"I'm sorry about the other day," he said, looking like he was forcing himself to say it. Harry watched Hermione freeze in the corner of his eye. "I was too bitter about having to be rescued by you two, again."

Harry's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Again?"

Malfoy looked at him. "Forgot the fiendfyre?"

Oh right. Harry nodded in understanding.

"I got you this," Malfoy said, extending out his hands.

Harry had been so focused on his face that he hadn't noticed that Malfoy was carrying something. It was a bottle of wine. "I found it yesterday, it says it's from 1917. It should be quite extraordinary."

He pushed the bottle into Hermione's arms, who murmured a quick thanks and started reading the label on the bottle.

They all remained quite still again, waiting for someone to say something. Harry wasn't quite ready to forgive Malfoy just yet, though, he understood and actually appreciated how much it must hurt his pride to come to them with regret.

"Um," Malfoy bit his lip, looking from Harry to Hermione. "Can I stay and watch Granger make a fool of herself?"

Harry rolled his eyes so quickly that they actually hurt, but surprisingly, Hermione laughed.

"No. But you can stay and try to teach me too."

Malfoy grinned. "I can't be any worse at it than Potter." His grey eyes moved to Harry.

Hermione seemed to have forgiven Malfoy already, so he saw no point in fighting it anymore.

"She meant teaching her how to fly, Malfoy, not teaching her how to be a pompous snob," Harry said without much malice.

For the next couple of hours, Harry and Malfoy shouted so many (sometimes contradicting) commands at Hermione that Harry doubted she actually learnt anything, but at least she didn't seem to hate flying as much as she had before.

.

Draco had completely lost track of time and only realized how late it was when the sun started setting in the horizon. He hadn't meant to spend the entire afternoon with Potter and Granger; his initial plan was to apologize, give them the bottle of wine and get back to his newly arrived box of sleeping potions, where he could start forgetting that Potter and Granger existed and that they were so close to him.

But when he was there standing in front of them, he couldn't bring himself to turn around, even when Potter looked upset and Granger uncomfortable. At least at first, because now he couldn't detect a trace of unfriendliness as the three of them sat on the sand, tired from Granger's mostly unsuccessful flying lesson.

Granger cleared her throat from next to him as she looked out to the sea. "There had been a lot of times over the years where I knew I was in mortal peril, but that night of the fire in the room of requirement was one of the scariest." She shook her head thoughtfully. "I genuinely thought someone would die in there."

Something icy cold seemed to flood Draco's insides and he froze momentarily, his brain flashing unpleasant image after unpleasant image. He was vaguely aware of Potter trying to call Granger's attention.

"Someone did," he heard himself say, louder and angrier than he meant it. He heard Granger gasp softly and he forced himself to look at her.

She had turned to him fully, her eyes were wide with mortification. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I…" She covered her mouth with her hand, as if she was about to cry. Potter was next to her, looking worriedly at Draco.

Draco shook his head softly, trying to get Vincent's face out of his mind. He shouldn't be sitting there with them when he could be on the other end of the beach, watching the crabs walk around him and not thinking about things he didn't want to think about.

He made a move to stand up but Granger took his hand. He looked at her, not sure if he wanted to snap at her or leave quietly, but she spoke first.

"Wait, Draco. I understand if you want to leave, just... _fuck_ I'm so sorry." She made a frustrated sound as she closed her eyes tightly and shook her head. "That was incredibly thoughtless and insensitive of me. I'm sorry."

She let him go and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Draco thought she might be trying to hold back tears, but he couldn't be sure. Also, she had called him 'Draco'.

He sighed, but remained where he was, wondering what on earth was wrong with him.

Granger opened her eyes, looking confused as to why he was still there, but it was Potter who broke the silence as opened the bottle of wine with his wand and a loud pop. Granger jumped and looked back at him.

Potter brought the bottle to his lips and threw his head back, taking several gulps before bringing it back down. He looked at the bottle for a moment and then offered it to Draco. Draco was relieved that he didn't find pity in Potter's eyes. He accepted the bottle and copied Potter's actions.

It was indeed a remarkable wine, and this was not even close to a proper way of appreciating it, but Draco couldn't imagine it tasting better than it did right then.

Granger was staring down at her feet in the sand when he offered her the bottle, and the way her eyes lit up when she took it made Draco feel significantly warmer. But it was most likely the wine.

No one spoke for a long time, only the sounds of the waves and the wine sloshing inside the bottle when someone was drinking it.

"Look," Potter said suddenly, startling Draco out of his thoughts. He and Granger followed Potter's gaze, to their right, where several crabs were poking out of their homes and walking around.

Draco couldn't help a small smile when he knew Potter and Granger weren't watching.

The sun was almost completely gone and the bottle was empty when Draco decided to sneak a glance to Potter and Granger. He wished he hadn't, because the last remains of deep orange light coloring their faces made his heart stop for a second. He wondered briefly how it was possible that they looked even more beautiful than the sunset over the sea, and then he groaned internally at his own stupidity.

He had to leave immediately.

He got to his feet and Granger and Potter looked up at him. From where he was standing it was easier to take them in; both of them at the same time, and he remembered their kisses. He had to suppress a shiver that wanted to run all over his body. If he didn't leave right away, he would do something he would later regret, he knew it.

"I should try and get some sleep," he said, his voice hoarse, as if it was resisting him.

Granger nodded, a serene expression on her face. Potter, on the other hand turned his upper body slightly towards the cottage behind them, extending his arm out with his wand in his hand.

"Accio Celestial tea," he said in a clear voice. Draco frowned.

There was a distant clatter and then a small box came flying out the window and into Potter's ready hand. He handed the box to Draco. "This is a muggle tea I found in the shop. I know it sounds ridiculous, but-"

Draco, who had been inspecting the box, interrupted. "It's called Sleepytime," he said simply, trying hard not to laugh.

Granger snorted and covered her mouth with her hand. Potter rolled his eyes, a slight blush on his cheeks. "Laugh all you want. It helps me."

Draco opened the cardboard box and took a handful of sachets. He stuffed them in the pocket of his trousers and handed the box back to Potter with a smile. "Thank you." And he meant it. He knew Potter wouldn't give Draco any excuse to ridicule him if he didn't really care.

"Well," Draco said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. "Good night."

"Good night," Granger and Potter chorused together.

Draco stood watching them for a second too long before he disapparated.

The first thing he did when he arrived was set the kettle and put all ten or so sachets of Celestial Sleepytime Tea in a large cup. At the last second he also added a splash of firewhiskey and downed the whole thing in about thirty seconds, ignoring the way his tongue burned.

But that night; he slept.


	11. Breeze

**Chapter Eleven - Breeze**

One third of a bottle of wine wasn't much. Hermione knew that.

But she was still unsure if that was the cause of her head swimming and her vision blurring, or she had been simply staring into the sea for far too long.

"Do you want to go back inside?" Harry asked from next to her, and she forced herself to look away from the waves.

When her eyes focused on Harry, she felt much better. "Sure."

She picked up the empty bottle and one broom while Harry took the other, along with the box of tea. She definitely felt the alcohol in her system, but it wasn't as bad as she had previously thought.

"Malfoy is…" Harry trailed off, his frown burrowing as if he couldn't find the right words. "Really something, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Hermione murmured feebly. She still couldn't believe she had been too tactless and forgetful about someone she knew had been Malfoy's friend. She had felt like the lowest, most hypocritical person on earth when Malfoy looked at her with so much hurt in his eyes. She had always considered herself to be a better person than him and yet… She knew Malfoy, _this_ Malfoy that she and Harry were getting to know, would never say something so thoughtless about someone who had died during the war.

Hermione turned her head to look at Harry as they walked back to the house. He was smiling faintly, looking down at his feet. She felt her heart race.

"Is it strange that I kind of don't want him to disappear again for so long?" Harry asked, looking at her with flushed cheeks. "Like, even forgetting that the kiss ever happened, having him around for company is nice, isn't it?"

Harry looked sort of hopeful and Hermione knew he was trying to gauge Hermione's reaction to see if she disliked Malfoy. He clearly wanted to spend more time with him and wouldn't be able to if she and Malfoy didn't get along.

She nodded. "It is," she assured him before looking away. They had reached the entrance, and they propped the brooms against the porch railing before walking inside.

It was warmer there, without the drafty sea wind, and the silence when Harry shut the door behind him made Hermione want to run back outside. She felt the words she was trying to avoid saying piling up inside her throat, lodging themselves there and making it more difficult for her to breathe. The more she looked at Harry, pouring water in a cup and heating it with his wand, the worse she felt, and the surer she became that the words would eventually spill out. Harry lowered a sachet of tea inside the steaming cup. Hermione bit her tongue, hard.

He had to know. She couldn't keep the fact that she had kissed Malfoy from him. They were out here alone, living next to each other day by day, just the two of them. It would absolutely eat her alive, no matter what happened with Harry and Malfoy. Even if they eventually started hating each other again (something that seemed less and less likely) she would feel like she had lied and betrayed Harry.

One day had been more than enough. She had to tell him.

"Harry," she said in a small voice as he took a small sip from his cup. When he noticed her wriggling hands and anxious expression, he frowned. Hermione took a deep breath. "I have to tell you something."

Harry placed the cup down on the kitchen table. "Are you okay?"

Hermione nodded. She had always hated how Harry looked when he was worried and she wanted to remove that look from his face. Let him call her out for kissing someone right after he had done it, let him express his anger at her dishonesty, let him be rightfully mad at her like she deserves.

"Last night I went over to Malfoy's." The knot inside her throat felt looser now, but the worse was not over. "And I kissed him."

She braced herself for Harry's reaction, expecting to see blazing confusion or disbelief behind those round spectacles, but the news seemed to have shocked him into stillness. Harry was looking at her quietly, his chest rising and falling normally and his eyes unreadable. Hermione got more worried by the second.

She was about to ask him if he was alright, when suddenly Harry moved. And he moved so quickly that Hermione barely understood what was happening until Harry had already crossed the kitchen. But he didn't stop in front of her, and for a second Hermione thought that he had miscalculated the distance between them because Harry collided with her, making her stumble back. However, when he caught her with his hands on her back and his lips found hers, Hermione finally understood that this was exactly what he had been meaning to do.

It took her less than a beat from her rapidly racing heart to throw her arms around him and kiss him back, all of her thoughts and concerns completely forgotten. She felt as though her body was reacting instinctively, actively, like it had been waiting for this and was absolutely ready for it, not matter how lost and confused her brain was. Harry pushed back even harder when he felt Hermione respond and Hermione matched his strength, energy rising inside of her at an alarming pace. One of her hands slid to the side of his neck and the other to the back of his head, and with a small fistful of hair she pulled him closer, making Harry gasp. Their tongues met, and Hermione faintly tasted tea and wine.

It was outstanding how fast her brain made the connection, but Malfoy's face flashed behind her eyes and Hermione gripped Harry even tighter. The recollection of what had just happened hit her unexpectedly. Malfoy. Harry was kissing her because she told him she kissed Malfoy.

It took her a moment to understand but as the kiss deepened, fast and hot and desperate; Hermione started seeing everything so clearly. Of course Harry would kiss her after finding out about her and Malfoy; it made perfect sense in her brain, even though she couldn't really explain it, and couldn't even be bothered to try, as Harry's tongue tracing over her bottom lip was all the cared about in the world right now.

They had been pushing against each other with equal force so they remained in the same place, but when Hermione bit Harry's lip softly, she felt a low groan against her lips and a sudden hardness against her hip. She shouldn't have been surprised by it, but her knees weakened unwillingly and she couldn't help but let Harry push her back a few steps. He stopped then, his mouth still less than an inch from hers, and Hermione could feel the heat rising to his neck and she was sure that if she were to open her eyes, he would be red and mortified. But she didn't; she didn't have to open her eyes to know what she really wanted.

And stopping wasn't it.

.

Harry waited for a moment to see if Hermione would look at him. He felt the need to at least apologize with his eyes because he was sure the words would never come out. But Hermione's eyes remained stubbornly closed and Harry's heart started pounding with fear. They were still close together, _too close,_ there was no way Hermione wasn't feeling him, but then why wasn't she-

Hermione's fist closed around Harry's shirt as she pulled him to her, crashing their lips together once more. With a wave of relief, Harry held her even tighter, realizing how unprepared he was to let her go. As crazy as this was, he couldn't believe it had taken them so long to do this, and what's more, that this was all happening because of Malfoy.

Guilt flooded Harry's stomach suddenly. There he was; kissing Hermione with all his might while his brain remembered the way Malfoy's lips had felt against his own. But then again, Hermione had kissed Malfoy too.

Was she thinking about him, too?

Harry slid his hands down to Hermione's hips and pushed her determinedly against the wall. He couldn't explain it, but the thought of her and Malfoy made him want to snog her senseless, and the more he thought about it, the more he was certain that this was the right and sane thing to do. And Hermione seemed like she agreed with him, so he wasn't about to doubt Hermione's judgement; he'd been down that road many times before and he knew how it ended.

With Hermione's back against the wall, things started to accelerate rather fast, making Harry's head spin. Her hands were on his hair, then on his arms, then trailing up and down his neck, and he had no recollection of how they got there, even when he suddenly found himself without his glasses. Harry had no problem keeping up, though, and before he knew it, his lips were nipping down Hermione's jaw and neck with such resolve that he forgot to stop before crossing a line. It wasn't until he felt fabric between his lips that he realized he had reached the top of Hermione's dress, and that he wanted nothing more than to make it disappear.

Before he could think of how to make that happen, he shuddered at the cool (but most definitely welcome) air making contact with his skin. Hermione was lifting up his shirt.

Harry stepped away slightly to remove it, throwing it behind himself. Hermione took this opportunity to bunch her dress around her legs before pulling it up her body in a slower and more awkward way than Harry had done, but it was still absolutely mesmerizing to Harry. He couldn't believe how beautiful she looked, and how lucky he was that this was happening.

They embraced each other again, with hot skin and curious hands that seeked to touch even more than before. Harry had no qualms about pressing himself against her this time, and when he felt Hermione's soft underwear through his trousers, he couldn't help but groan in frustration. Hermione answered his unspoken plea almost immediately, her hands fumbling with the button and zipper until Harry stood in his underwear, trousers pooled around his ankles. It felt unbelievably freeing to be like this with her, and he couldn't even imagine how it would be like when they were completely naked.

His mind paused on the word 'when'. _When_ they were naked. Why was he so sure that would happen? Maybe they were already taking it too far. Maybe Hermione would stop things before then. Maybe _he_ would do it. After all, this would be the first time, for both of them, and it was a big deal no matter how you looked at it.

Despite all of this, he couldn't shut the part of himself that was almost certain that they would go through with it. Nothing indicated the contrary, and if Hermione were to ask him right now if that is what he wanted, he would undoubtedly say yes.

Harry stepped out of his trousers and kicked them away, all the while having Hermione's lips attached to his chest, her hands on his shoulders. He couldn't decide what to do next; he wanted to lift her up and press her up against the window, but he also wanted to lay her down and kiss as much as her body as he could. The multiple options and her trailing lips kept him almost paralyzed and he could only continue to run his hands up and down her sides, gripping her waist and hips in turn with her kisses. Eventually he couldn't take it anymore and with both his hands on her head, he made her face him and kissed her again.

Hermione's hands settled on Harry's back and she started stepping sideways away from the wall, pulling Harry along. Harry's stomach turned over when he realized she was leading them to the sofa and he stopped, pulling away and opening his eyes to look at her. It was pretty obvious that Hermione wanted this as much as he did, but he needed visual confirmation that he wasn't just having a wonderful hallucination.

Hermione's eyes snapped open, dark and deep as he had ever seen them. And then she smiled.

It was Hermione, and it was him. It felt right, no matter how you looked at it.

.

When Hermione thought about this moment, she always imagined it would be morning. Lying in bed the morning right after she had sex for the first time. She now realized how absurd that was, seeing as morning was hours away and sleeping was the last thing on her mind.

She had never imagined who would be lying next to her. For a while she thought it might be Ron, and then someone she hadn't met yet. But truthfully, she couldn't have asked for anyone better to do this with for the first time.

Harry was next to her, just as awake, and just as silent. She could practically feel him thinking and she wondered if his thoughts were similar to hers in any way.

But for that to happen, he would have to be thinking of Malfoy.

Hermione's insides twisted uncomfortably with guilt and she held the blanket they had conjured when they finished, a little tighter around herself. She had just done something incredible with Harry and yet she couldn't force her brain to focus solely on him. She turned on her side to look at him, admiring the handsome shape of his nose and the slight unfamiliarity of seeing with without his glasses.

He stared at the ceiling for a moment, looking slightly worried, but then he turned too and smiled at her. The strangeness of the scene was punctuated by the fact that they hadn't turned off the living room lights, so despite being the middle of the night, Hermione could see Harry clearly.

She wanted to say something, but nothing seemed appropriate, and the far too recent memories of different moans and grunts was still ringing in her ears. She blushed involuntarily.

"Do you… feel alright?" Harry broke the silence, his voice a little rough.

Hermione nodded, perhaps a little too enthusiastically in an effort to convince him. "You?" she asked back.

Harry nodded too. "You just seemed a little worried."

"I thought the same of you," she said with a small smile. "Should we be worried?"

Harry frowned and then relaxed his face. "I don't think so. I mean if I feel alright, and you feel alright…"

He was right, of course. There was nothing to be worried about.

But Hermione tried to imagine what the immediate future would look like for them. If there was nothing indicating that they should stop, she guessed this would happen again. They were alone together almost every moment, and with that door opened she couldn't imagine why it wouldn't happen again unless something got in the way.

And then she thought of Malfoy.

Would he get on their way? Maybe not literally; she didn't think he cared enough about either of them to stop it, but what if she couldn't stop thinking of Malfoy? What if she kept thinking of the way he kissed her every time she and Harry were alone? What if they spent even more time with him and her confused feelings towards him grew? She couldn't do that to Harry, not after what they'd done tonight.

"I can't stop thinking about Malfoy."

The words poured out of her like a burst of accidental magic and she shut her mouth right after and stared aghast at Harry. But she couldn't just stay quiet and let his green eyes keep widening in shock, she had to make it better.

"I don't mean it like that! I mean…" she sighed feeling herself get red. "I love what we did more than I can tell you, Harry. It meant so much to me and I'm glad it happened with you."

She stopped, wondering how to continue when Harry spoke.

"But…" he said, looking at her expectantly, but not upset or sad as she thought.

"But… I keep thinking about him."

Harry nodded softly and she wished with all her might that she had kept her mouth shut. Her thought and feelings about Malfoy could have easily gone away. She could have tried to make them go away if she hadn't been so impatient.

"What do you think about him?" Harry asked, his voice somewhat lower.

Hermione shrugged one shoulder slightly and looked down at Harry's cushion under his head rather than at his eyes. "Just stupid things like 'what is he doing now' and 'has he been able to sleep' and 'what he'll say when he finds out about us'." Hermione laughed shakily. "Can you imagine how smug he'll be after how we denied that there was anything between us?"

Harry looked at her in a funny way. He was frowning, but there was an amused smile playing on his lips when he spoke. " _When_ he finds out?" he said and Hermione's heart jumped. "Are you planning on telling him?"

Hermione hadn't even considered the possibility that Malfoy didn't _have_ to know what had happened between her and Harry. She opened and closed her mouth a few times.

Harry laughed. "This is all so insane."

Hermione covered her eyes with her hands and pressed hard. "I know, I'm sorry." She groaned in frustration. "I can't believe I told you, I'm pathetic."

Harry's hands took a hold of her wrists and carefully pulled down to remove her hands from her face. His green eyes were shining. "I'm thinking about him too."

It took her a second to react, but when his words sank in, Hermione reached slowly and hugged him, one arm slipping under his neck and the other around around his middle. Harry hugged her back.

"Really?" she asked, suddenly a little choked up. She wasn't sure why but her feelings were rising to the surface.

Harry nodded into the crook of her neck. "I don't know what this means," he confessed. Hermione was so glad they were both on equal terms of confusion about Draco Malfoy, even if it made the whole thing far more surreal.

They remained embraced for a while, but despite the silence, Hermione was sure Harry's brain was working just as hard as hers.

"What are we going to do?" she whispered after a while.

Harry pulled apart to look at her and without a warning leaned in to kiss her, making Hermione's heart start racing just as fast as when he kissed her the first time.

She hardly thought this would solve their problem about Malfoy, but for the moment it seemed like a perfectly good response.

She kissed him back.


	12. Glow

**Chapter Twelve - Glow**

Draco surveyed the shelf full of small colorful boxes in front of him, resisting the urge to pull out his wand and summon the right one, because he couldn't see it anywhere. All of these had french words written on them, but he was pretty certain that the box Potter had given him was in english.

He stood in the tea aisle for over five minutes, but he was unable to find Celestial Sleepytime Tea. He looked around, making sure there was no one else there before pulling out his wand, but he found a familiar face looking at him from the end of the aisle. Potter's eyes were wide as he looked at Draco's wand. Draco stuffed it back into his pocket and tried to calm his heart as Potter approached him.

"Are you mental?" Potter whispered when he was close enough. Draco sighed dramatically as if he was already annoyed by Potter, when in reality he felt huge relief upon seeing him.

"I was just going to summon your stupid tea, no one would even notice," Draco replied, motioning towards the shelf. "I just can't see it."

Potter smiled smugly. "It worked, didn't it?"

Draco shrugged. "Only because I used almost the entire box. I need to buy a dozen more."

Still smiling, Potter wrapped his hand around Draco's forearm and pulled him along a few steps until Draco resisted almost instinctively. What was Potter doing?

"Oh sorry," he said, looking down at his own hand and dropping it. "Follow me, the tea is with the imported products."

Potter seemed to be in an awfully good mood, and Draco would even say that he looked different; his posture was relaxed, his eyes were bright and clear, and his hair was sticking up in more directions than usual. Draco felt an unnerving urge to run his hands through it.

After Draco picked up his twelve boxes of tea, he walked around with Potter as he shopped. He was glad Potter didn't mention how Draco could have left a long time ago, and they merely shared some news and opinions regarding the professional Quidditch world, which Potter knew little about seeing as he didn't even read the paper these days.

The conversation continued even after they had payed and left the store, and instead of apparating they started walking back. Potter seemed like he was itching to talk, asking more and more questions every time Draco finished a sentence, and despite himself, Draco was enjoying the conversation as well. Before he knew it, they were at the beach again, and Potter and Granger's cottage was in front of them.

They stopped walking and Potter wasn't asking anymore questions, plainly putting at end to their time together. Draco's chest felt suddenly tight with disappointment, and he searched his brain for something to say.

"How's Granger?" he asked, thinking this could spark a bit more conversation.

Something strange flickered across Potter's eyes, something between amusement and curiosity, but Draco couldn't understand why. "She's alright. Sleeping right now," Potter answered simply.

"Oh." Draco guessed there was nothing more on the subject and he was about to say goodbye when an idea occurred to him.

"Would you like a butterbeer? I just recieved a case yesterday."

Inviting Potter over to his house didn't seem like the smartest idea, specially when he was supposed to be getting over his ridiculous and inexplicable feelings towards him (and Granger) but the part of him that just wanted to spend more time with Potter seemed to be stronger. He cleared his throat anxiously as Potter considered his invitation.

"Sure."

It was one of the strangest, but also best days Draco had spent since he got to France. He talked and drank with Potter all morning and then he 'helped' him prepare a late lunch, mostly just standing around as Potter tried to figure out the how to work out the kitchen of the Malfoy summer house that hadn't been used in centuries, probably.

They ate in the dining room where he, Potter, and Granger had had dinner a few weeks prior. It seemed to Draco as if that had happened years ago.

"Shouldn't we take the food to Granger?" Draco asked as he took a bite of Potter's surprisingly edible mashed potatoes.

Potter shook his head. "She's still asleep. I'll bring it over for dinner when she wakes up."

Draco looked down at his food and thought of Granger spending the night alone as Potter slept. Then again, Potter would be alone right now if it weren't for Draco. He started wondering why they had come here together at all if they spent most of their time apart.

Draco could feel Potter watching him, so he looked up, raising an eyebrow in question at him.

"You seemed worried about her."

Draco tried not to blush, because getting caught thinking about Granger was about the last thing he wanted from Potter. "I'm not. I'm just wondering why she doesn't do something about it."

Potter frowned and finished swallowing. "About what?"

"Sleeping all day, staying up all night." At the look on Potter's face, Draco continued. "I know I'm not the best example, but I try to see at least a bit of sunlight every day if I can. I know there's times when she has spent days without doing that."

Potter seemed surprised that Draco noticed this much about Granger, but then his surprise faded and he shook his head, sadly.

"Things seem slightly better in the light of the day, that's why I try to take advantage of it as much as possible but…" he trailed off, looking down at his food and moving it apart with his fork. "Sleeping all night and staying up all day is no better than the opposite if you only do it because you're afraid. I'm just as fucked up as Hermione. Or worse."

Feeling pity for Potter was something new to Draco. His younger self would have thought it'd be enjoyable, but now he wished it would go away.

"At least you're not addicted to sleeping potions. Or sleepy time tea."

Draco was surprised at his own self-deprecating words, but when Potter laughed he stopped regretting them.

After eating, Draco found a couple of old brooms in the storage room, and even though they weren't as good as Potter's, they still took them out and flew for a while as the sun went down. The darker it got, the more Draco could feel is stomach twisting and turning with nerves as he remembered the last time he and Potter were in a situation like this. There wasn't a Snitch this time though, so there was no reason why they should end up seeking something in the darkness and ending up finding each other instead…

"Malfoy!"

Draco shook his head, ridding himself of the memories of that night and looking around for Potter. He hadn't noticed that Potter had descended and was now standing in the sand below, waving up at Draco.

"I should go bring the food to Hermione," Potter said when Draco landed next to him. The way Potter looked, tired and windswept, made Draco's breath itch.

He nodded and lead the way back to the house so Potter could collect everything.

"If you want to come and have dinner with us, I'm sure Hermione won't mind," Potter offered with a smile.

Draco thought it over, but he had to be strong eventually. Spending all day with Potter was one thing, but if he also added Granger to the mix and then ended up spending all night with them (which, if he knew himself seemed perfectly plausible) then where would it stop?

"Thanks, but I think I'll stay. I was up far too early today."

Potter nodded and walked over to the door, levitating some containers in front of him. Draco walked him out and then stopped at the threshold.

"Thanks for the butterbeers," Potter said, smiling warmly and shifting from one foot to the other, as if he didn't know what to do.

Draco started feeling anxious at Potter's antics. He hoped Potter wasn't planning on kissing him again. Draco wouldn't be able to resist it, he was weak and pathetic and Potter's perfectly tousled hair had been teasing him all day. If Potter made even the slightest move towards him, Draco would have only two options; slam the door in his face, or pull Potter back inside and snog the life out of him.

He didn't even lie to himself about which one sounded better.

"Thanks for lunch," Draco said, feeling out of air and trying hard not to stare at Potter's lips.

The second that followed seemed to stretch on forever, but Potter finally took a step back and then grinned once more before disapparating on the spot.

Draco hoped he wouldn't catch a cold from the ridiculously cold shower he took, followed by the scorching hot tea he poured down his throat before collapsing into bed.

.

Harry's daily routine hadn't changed that much. He still slept at night while Hermione didn't, and then he spent much of his time talking walks, flying, or sitting under the sun. But during the three days that had gone by since he and Hermione first kissed, every day there had been a moment that made it easier for Harry to carry on with a little more happiness than before.

On the first day Hermione spent the morning with Harry before going to sleep so they could talk about their situation regarding Malfoy. Too soon though, the amount of speaking decreased almost as much as the amount of keeping their hands to themselves, and before they knew it, Harry had pulled Hermione onto his lap as he sat on the table and they spent breakfast locked at the lips.

On the second day, he only saw Hermione at dinner as per usual, but when Harry walked through the door after his daily flight, Hermione practically jumped on him and the food she had prepared remained forgotten.

And now on the third day, Malfoy had finally made an appearance and Harry was with him for hours until Malfoy declined his invitation to have dinner with him and Hermione. During his time with him, he had decided that Malfoy did seem at least remotely interested in him, and Harry wanted to see how he would react with him _and_ Hermione, but that would have to wait. He then went back home and told Hermione everything about his day with Malfoy, and since the subject arose again, she told him the details about the day she went over to his house and kissed him.

By the end of the conversation, Harry was more confused than ever. He wanted to have Hermione as close as possible, but he also felt a great need to run back to Malfoy's and kiss him again.

And by the looks of it, Hermione was as conflicted as he was.

"Has this ever happened to you before?" she asked softly as they both sat on the sofa facing each other, Hermione's fingers moving distractedly up and down his forearm. "Liking two people at the same time?"

Harry thought about it. He was sure he hadn't experienced something quite like this, but he had definitely been attracted to more than one person at the time. Cho and Cedric came to mind. "Not like this," he said, blushing slightly. "And you?"

Hermione shook her head. "I always thought that if I was ever in a love triangle, there would be jealousy and drama and then a logical solution to it all, but this…" She dropped her head on Harry's shoulder. "I can't even imagine what the ideal scenario would be."

Harry ran his fingers through Hermione's hair. "Ideally Malfoy would like us both back, no?"

Hermione raised her head, looking at Harry with a bemused expression. "That doesn't solve it!" she said incredulously. "That just makes it harder. What would we do next?"

Harry dropped his hand and stared at her. He had no idea what they would do, but for him nothing sounded better than thinking that Malfoy felt about him and Hermione the same way they felt about him. If the three of them were on the same page, he could kiss Malfoy again without any problems. He could kiss Hermione in front of him. He could watch them kiss each other.

His pulse picked up suddenly, and the amount of images filling his head were _surely_ making his entire body flush. Somehow he had been too busy thinking about being with each of them individually to really imagine the three of them together at the same time. But it was painfully obvious now that that was exactly what the ideal situation would look like to him.

Hermione's expression went from puzzlement to realization and then straight to embarrassment as she seemed to comprehend what Harry was thinking about. Harry wanted to make the images stop, but the more he looked at her, flustered but not at all put off from the idea, the more scenarios seemed to pop up in his mind and the bigger his need to crawl on top of her.

The silence that followed was one of the most uncomfortables Harry had ever shared with Hermione. It seemed like it would never end, until the corners of her mouth turned up and she started laughing nervously, covering her face with her hands and doubling up with laughter. Harry laughed too, mostly because he knew it would be the best way to get past the awkwardness.

After a few more seconds the laughter started to die out and they were once more looking at each other uncertainly.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Do you think we'll be in that situation?"

Harry scratched the back of his head. "I don't know. Seems almost too crazy to be plausible."

She nodded. "I can't believe we used to hate him so much," she said reflectively.

"I'm still half convinced he slipped us a love potion that night we went to his house," Harry joked as he shoved some of Hermione's hair behind her ear.

She snorted. "Do you think that's responsible for this too?" She indicated between them.

"If it is, then I couldn't thank Malfoy enough."

And then he crawled over her.


	13. Midnight

**Chapter Thirteen - Midnight**

Draco woke up, startled and breathing fast. The nightmare he'd been having quickly disappeared from his memory, and he was merely left with an odd unsettling sensation all over his body. He was sweating profusely and he immediately left the bed and removed his shirt, throwing it away as if it was to blame for his bad dreams.

When things like this happened to him he felt an overwhelming urge to run into the ocean outside and submerge himself in the cold water, so he could make sure that he was in fact awake and nothing bad would happen to him.

He had never done it so far, mostly because his fear of drowning seemed to overcome everything else, and he ended up just settling for sitting on the sand and feeling the salty breeze.

He tried to imagine what Potter and Granger would do if they saw Draco walking into the ocean in the middle of the night, and the fact that he was certain they'd bend over backwards trying to save him made him feel a little better. He couldn't do anything without them noticing now; Potter was always there in the daylight and Granger in the darkness. She was probably out there right this moment.

Draco remembered what she'd said the night she broke all his windows with rocks. It made her feel better knowing he was out there too, suffering with insomnia and trying to drown out his thoughts into the night.

But Draco wasn't out there.

As if his body started reacting automatically, he walked over to his closet and picked out a clean shirt, as well as a pair of socks. He wasn't entirely sure why he was getting dressed, but he was ready to head out in less than a minute, and he stopped at the door of the bedroom. He considered his options for a moment and then he took a detour to the small library next door before heading out.

The air outside was delightfully fresh and he knew then that he had made the right decision. Draco looked to his right and sure enough, there was a lonely figure crouched down in the sand in front of Potter's and Granger's cottage.

Again, his feet started moving automatically but with purpose. Apparating was too rash, he didn't want to scare her, and if for some reason she'd rather be alone then she could tell Draco to leave before he even got there. Draco had a feeling that she wouldn't, though, and it made his heart pound restlessly.

If only Granger and Potter were smart enough to stay away from Draco. If only they hadn't been so forgiving and nice to him. If only at least one of them has the sense to tell Draco to fuck off then his problems would be solved. He wouldn't have gone on what felt like a _date_ with Potter the day before, and he wouldn't be going over to Granger in the dead of night, a carefully picked out book clutched in his hand. He didn't have the emotional strength to reject them even if he wanted to, not after they showed him they really cared.

They should be the ones rejecting him.

And the fact that neither of them had done it so far irked Draco immensely. He had assumed that they told each other everything, so Granger must have known that he and Potter kissed when she practically broke into his house the other night. But then when she made the first move to kiss him, he guessed he'd been wrong. Why would she kiss him if she knew Potter had done it first?

If Potter hadn't told Granger about their kiss, then she probably hid that information from him as well. That would explain why Potter was willing to hang around Draco all day and looking so ridiculously attractive to boot. There was no way that was an accident.

Draco slowed down a bit when he was closer to Granger. She hadn't spotted him yet, she simply sat there with her knees close to her body, her hair blowing in the wind. Draco didn't know if it was possible, but her hair looked even longer and wilder than the first time he saw her there.

Granger turned her head to look up at him when his steps became too evident. She looked slightly startled, but not entirely surprised. "Hello Malfoy," she said morosely with an unconvincing smile.

Draco cringed internally. She certainly didn't seem to be in the mood to have company. "Hello Granger." Draco felt a sudden need to explain his presence. "I...uh, I was just taking a stroll."

"That's better than a stale sleeping potion," she mentioned with a shrug and then patted the sand next to her. "Care to sit?"

Draco shrugged as well, as if he didn't really care whether he sat or not, but he did and kept the book close to his side where Granger couldn't see it.

"Did the tea stopped working?" Granger asked with a tone that Draco might have considered bitter if it had come from anyone else, but he had never heard Granger speak like that.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "I just woke up."

She made an understanding noise. "And do you usually take books with you on your night strolls?"

When Draco turned to look at her she was smiling. Draco scoffed.

"As a matter of fact, I do. You're not the only one who reads, Granger."

He thought the innocent banter might lighten up the situation, but instead of rolling her eyes or bickering back, Granger's eyes watered. Draco felt his stomach drop to his feet.

"I'm… sorry?" he said uncertainly, trying to understand what was happening.

Granger shook her head furiously and seemed to be working hard on keeping the tears at bay. She grunted in frustration and raised her right arm, which Draco hadn't realized was holding her wand. Raising to her feet, she fired a quick succession of spells towards the sea. Angry red flames shot out from her wand and into the water, dissipating with a satisfying hiss and some smoke. When it was all gone, she did it again, not speaking a word and watching her spells hit the waves as tears flowed freely from her face now.

Draco stared at her in shock, not really knowing what to do.

"I am so tired of crying!" she cried as the last of the flames fizzled out. She threw herself back down, landing hard on her bottom and letting her wand drop next to her feet. "It's like the lever of tears broke and I don't know how to fix it! I feel like such a…" She sobbed some more. "Such a…"

"Girl?" Draco supplied without thinking. He almost jumped back at the murderous look Granger gave him.

"Like a baby, Malfoy. Girls aren't the only ones who cry." She dried out her tears with the hem of her dress and Draco couldn't help the way his eyes followed the movement and glanced down at her exposed thighs.

He focused on her face again and shook his head in earnest. "I meant a _little_ girl, not a grown woman. But yes, sorry, a baby." He couldn't believe she was ready to argue while bawling her eyes out. "Merlin, Granger. Don't you see I'm just trying to help?"

Granger frowned. "How? I haven't been able to read for months now because I can no longer concentrate for more than a minute and you bring up _books_?"

"You haven't been able to read?" he asked, blinking slowly at her. Granger looked at him with regret and maybe a little embarrassment. Draco shook his head in exasperation. "How was I supposed to know that? I clearly don't bring books on my night strolls, Granger!" Having a conversation with Hermione Granger was exhausting and even though she had just been crying Draco let his voice get a little louder. "I brought this specifically for you because I thought you'd enjoy it." He pushed the book into her hands.

Granger looked down at the cover of Traditional French Witchcraft. Her fingers grazed it slowly and she let out a deep sigh. "I'm sorry."

Draco had half a mind to leave. How dare she blame him for her problems? He had never acted so selfishlessly as he had done tonight with her.

But then she opened the book and started flicking through the pages slowly and rhythmically, staring at each one for a second before going to the next, her fingers handling the paper appreciatively. It was one of the most beautiful books Draco had seen, from the carved leather cover to each hand-drawn picture that completed the narration. He hadn't read it all, but he had flipped through it once or twice, and the way she was admiring the book even without reading it made Draco's heart soften.

She finally reached the last page and closed the book, her hand carefully placed over the back. "Thank you," she said without looking at him. "I'll try to read it." Something painful passed over her eyes and she sighed. "If I can't I'll just give it back to you."

Draco felt a deja vu. He had felt this same pity for Potter and now for Granger. And he didn't like it one bit. For some strange reason he wanted them to be the people he knew, even though he used to dislike them. They were wild, reckless creatures that strutted around the world as though it belonged to them; always on top, always awe-inspiring (but not by Draco, never by Draco). Seeing this soft, weak side of them had been an interesting experience, but not necessarily a good one.

An idea occurred to him, but he had to phrase it correctly, otherside Granger would never go for it. There was still pride behind that weeping exterior.

He swallowed hard. "Could I read it out loud?"

Granger's head finally snapped up to look at him. She watched him through narrowed eyes and Draco tried his best to appear honest. He knew if he asked her if she wanted him to read the book to her she would refuse strongly. He could practically hear her voice saying ' _Just because I can't read doesn't mean I need a storyteller, Malfoy'_.

But if he made it sound as if this was about him, maybe she would relent.

She scrutinized him for a few more seconds before she handed him the book. Her features softened and there was small smile playing at her lips. Granger was too smart; she probably figured out his intentions.

Draco pulled out his wand and whispered "Lumos." He held it between his bent knees as the book rested on his lap. "Prehistoric France and the Lascaux. The paintings in the famous Lascaux cave (Dordogne, southwestern France) are one of the earliest physical records of magicfolk in the entire world. The painted representation of unusual or extraordinary events depicted in some of the drawings are probably the best-preserved evidence of the existence of magic before written history."

Draco continued to read for a while, even getting completely submerged in what he was reading that at times he forgot Granger was there too. He only became painfully aware of her when the tide started rising and the crashing of waves became louder, so Granger scooched closer to him, her upper arm brushing his. Her skin was warm and soft against Draco's, who was glad he hadn't worn long sleeves this time. He remembered the way it felt to hold her when they kissed, and for a moment he regretted that he hadn't really seized the opportunity as much as he could have. His hands had merely remained on her back the entire kiss, when he could have stroked up and down her arms, or run a finger down her neck, or even grabbed her arse if she had let him.

She probably wouldn't have.

"Malfoy," she said suddenly, startling him.

Draco tore his eyes away from the book. "What?" he asked distractedly.

Granger huffed a laugh. "You've read the same sentence four times."

Draco looked back at the book, trying to find the last paragraph he had read, but he could barely remember any of it. "Sorry."

"That's okay. Are you tired?" Her eyes looked big in the light of his wand, and he couldn't see even a trace of the usual brown in them. It was all black.

Draco was feeling somewhat sleepy, but he merely shrugged.

"We should sleep. It'll be dawn soon," she said, looking over at the horizon.

Draco's heart gave a lurch at the word 'we', as if Granger had suggested that they slept together. He knew she hadn't, but now it was difficult to make his pulse settle down.

"But," Granger added, turning back at him. Draco could see a faint blush on her face. "Could you continue, tomorrow? It's a very interesting book."

Draco nodded, biting his tongue to avoid smirking. Granger would never admit that she needed help getting into her reading habit again, and someday when she was all better, he would remind her of this moment. He tried not to fixate on the fact that his mind was assuming that he would continue to see Granger in the future.

"Sure." He handed the book back to her. "You bring it, it's too heavy to take back and forth."

"You could apparate, you know." Granger got to her feet, the book under one arm as she extended the other out, offering Draco her hand.

Draco shrugged and let her help him up. Still holding her hand, he smiled down at her. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight. Thank you." Granger tightened the grip on his hand and for a moment Draco got the same fleeting sensation that she would try to kiss him, and once again he was certain he wouldn't refuse.

But then Granger let go of him, still smiling brightly, and Draco let go of the breath he didn't know he was holding. With a small wave, he disapparated.


	14. Sunrise

**Chapter Fourteen - Sunrise**

"That's it?" Harry asked. "Reading?"

Hermione nodded, her head on Harry's stomach as they both lied down on the transfigured sofa. "For like half an hour."

Harry hummed, playing with her hair. "What do you think? Is he interested?"

"I don't know," she shrugged and bit her lip anxiously. "I feel silly wondering these things when we could just ask him."

Harry moved to sit up, so she had to sit up as well. "We can't ask him, Hermione. He'll freak. He's already a mess without us dropping a bomb like this on him."

She smiled sadly. "We're all mess."

Hermione had recounted the events of the night before to Harry as they both rested after dinner. Harry had seen Malfoy that morning too, because he'd left some groceries at his place, and even though it had been a very brief encounter, Harry said he was convinced Malfoy liked him. Hermione wished she could tell Harry the same, specially because Harry seemed so eager to find out, but she just wasn't sure that it was the case. The probabilities that she and Harry both liked Malfoy had been low enough as it is, and Hermione thought it'd be near impossible for Malfoy to like them both back. If Harry was so sure of Malfoy's feelings, then it probably meant that he only liked Harry.

As if Harry had been able to read her thoughts, he made Hermione face him and stared at her with a serious expression. "He'd be insane not to like you."

Hermione felt warmth spread throughout her, and she smiled fondly at him. "This whole thing is insane."

"I know," Harry nodded, leaning in to plant a kiss on the corner of Hermione's lips. "That's why I feel like we should let it develop naturally, instead of forcing it by putting pressure on him."

Not being able to resist Harry's lips moving so close to hers, she turned her head slightly and kissed him full on the lips. Harry cupped her face, and coaxing her lips open his tongue slid into her mouth and moved swiftly against hers. Hermione moaned softly at the delightfully aggressive way that Harry had decided to kiss her. This side of Harry drove her absolutely mad and it was no wonder that she felt like going at it with him every time they were both awake at the same time.

Things had been so intense in such a short amount of time that the first time they kissed felt like years ago, and now she found herself in the middle of something that felt almost like a relationship, perhaps because she had known Harry for so long already. But she didn't mind, and Harry didn't seem to mind either; they were finally enjoying having this piece of time and space just for them without having to worry about the rest of the world.

There seemed to be only one other part of the world that they cared about right then, and it happened to be just a short walk away.

She moved closer to him until she placed each knee around his hips, straddling him. "Alright," she said as she broke the kiss. Harry whined in protest. "I'll give Draco more time before asking."

Harry quirked an eyebrow at her. "Draco?"

"I feel that if we're going to do this, we should call him by his first name at least." She leaned down to kiss Harry's collarbone.

"Probably." Harry seemed to hesitate before speaking again. "Don't quote me on this, but I think he has a nice name." Hermione laughed. "Objectively speaking," he clarified. "It just feels weird to say it."

"Oh, you can't say his name but you can fantasize about him?"

Hermione felt Harry stiffening, so she stopped running her lips alongside his collarbone and straightened up to look at him. Harry had a mixed expression of incredulity, embarrassment, and amusement, but Hermione thought he looked lovely.

"I… I don't fantasize about him," he stammered, clearly lying.

Hermione smiled and shot him a look of pure skepticism.

" _You_ fantasize about him," he accused, poking her in the forehead with a finger.

She gasped in fake indignation. "You do!" she placed her finger on Harry's forehead and pushed him back until he was lying down.

"You do," Harry murmured even has Hermione bent down and started kissing him again, their teasing smiles coming together. She almost broke the kiss just to tell him 'you do' one more time, but then Harry's hands slid from her back to her bottom and he squeezed rather hard, making Hermione's brain momentarily useless.

But she was sure that from that moment on, neither doubted that they both thought of Draco regularly, and not only when they were together like this.

.

For some reason Draco thought that the crabs that went out during the sunrise were more erratic than in the ones in the sunset. He wondered if it was because they've just woken up, but he wasn't sure that crabs even slept. Perhaps they stayed underground all day and night, waiting for the sun to come up and then to go down so they could leave.

He usually wasn't awake during sunrise, but his sleep schedule had been even stranger than usual during the past week. He spent nearly all late mornings with Potter, either flying, shopping, or cooking; three things Draco never did before. Then he'd go to sleep early in the evening and wake up in the middle of the night and go meet Granger. He'd read to her almost the entire book about witchcraft in France, and he was already trying to decide what book would be next. He wasn't letting himself dwell too much on the fact that his days revolved around those two, because even if he wouldn't admit it, it was the best he'd felt ever since the war ended. He was distracted; he had things to do, food to eat, discussions to win, books to read, and most importantly, nothing to prove. Granger and Potter knew who Draco had been, all the best and worst things, and they didn't care.

Granger had gone to sleep a couple of hours ago, but Draco wasn't that sleepy yet so he stayed for a while, watching the sun and crabs and thinking that he couldn't wait to see Potter later that day. If he was completely honest, he couldn't wait to see both of them, but Granger had just left and it'll be a long time until she was up again. Draco looked back over his shoulder at their cottage, the lights turned off and a serene quietness that made Draco feel calm inside. Sometimes he wanted to show up at their doorstep while they were both inside and just knock. He knew they'd let them in, even if he woke them up, and then the three of them could be together.

He didn't know what they would do, though. Would Potter want to join in as Draco read the book out loud? Or maybe Granger would try flying again. They could have lunch together in the beach and then fall asleep by the shore.

Draco covered his face with his hands and dragged them down slowly, stretching his skin as he let out a groan. He couldn't believe he was daydreaming about taking a _nap_ with them. He was absolutely pathetic. There wasn't even anything special about them or about their time together. Seeing the light of the day or the darkness of the night while doing perfectly mundane things shouldn't be that important or memorable to him.

But when he wakes up the first thing on his mind is Potter and the light that seems to radiate from his eyes when he smiles. And when he goes to sleep his last thought is Granger and the way the moonlight reflects on her large pupils.

They had always seemed so similar to him; a couple of attention-seeking, perfect little Gryffindors. But Draco could see their differences now.

If Potter was the day; luminous, bold, and sincere, then Granger was the night; curious, gracious, and unpredictable.

And the only certainty that Draco had during these times, is that they would both show up for him.

He didn't know how long it'll last, but he knew it couldn't be forever. Eventually something would break this routine he had gotten used to in such a short amount of time. Perhaps they would decide to go back to England tomorrow. They both must have thousands of job offers raining down on them every day, so at any moment leaving was a possibility for either of them.

Draco thought about Granger leaving him alone with Potter, and then the opposite scenario, but he was sure that they were as likely to leave each other as Draco was of going back to the Manor right this second. They would either leave together, or not at all. The thought comforted Draco.

And then a disturbing thought made its way into his mind. What if someone else came here? What if Weasley or his family returned? For Draco this place had been like a secret that only he, Potter, and Granger shared and the thought of someone else interrupting that made his insides twist uncomfortably. It would all break apart.

Draco got to his feet, making the crabs that had gotten used to his stillness retreat to their homes in a rush. He turned on his heel and started walking over to the cottage, his pulse quickening with every step. It could all break apart at any moment and his time with them would be nothing but a short, almost accidental incident that none of them would ever discuss again.

He could already imagine running into Granger at Flourish and Blotts, her arms full of books and her eyes full of reminders of all the hours they spent side to side next to the black sky. She would blush, murmur a quick 'hello Malfoy' and run out of the store. At this point Granger had started calling Draco by his first name and the thought of her going back to Malfoy was something akin to devastating. And then he pictured finding Potter at some important Quidditch final, Ginny Weasley or someone even more gorgeous holding onto his arm and looking up adoringly at him. They would exchange awkward pleasantries and ignore the knot in their throats at the memory of flying together over the vast ocean when no one else was around.

Draco's eyes were stinging painfully when he stepped in front of the front door and took a deep, shuddering breath.

The kisses that he had shared with them were both sudden and brief. He thought now that he could remember the details perfectly, but would he still remember a few years down the road? Would Potter remember the sand gritting in their teeth or Draco's reluctant eagerness? Would Granger recall the way anger melted into softness when she touched him?

Draco had to make sure that they did. If it would all boil down to memories, he had to make sure that the important things lasted more than a few seconds.

Before knocking he decided to look through the window, his curiosity getting the better of him. He couldn't help the stupid smile that tugged at his lips when found them both fast asleep on the obviously transfigured sofa. They had put him to sleep in that sofa when they found him on the shore, and now they were both curled up there, facing opposite directions and unaware of Draco's intentions. He straightened up again and faced the door, feeling only slightly bad at the thought of waking them up. Granger had only slept a couple of hours. But he himself had had virtually no sleep and he felt more awake than ever before.

He knocked three times.

He heard rustling inside and a sleepy voice asking something. He waited there, his heart on his throat and his hands shaking slightly.

"Yes?"

It was Granger's voice, groggy but still somewhat alarmed.

"It's me," Draco said simply, wishing they couldn't sense the anxiety in his voice.

The door flung open, revealing both Potter, with his unruly hair and no glasses, and Granger, with her wild mane and concerned expression.

But it was Potter who spoke first. "Are you okay?" he asked at once, making Draco's insides soar. They were worried about him.

Draco nodded. "Harry, Hermione." He tasted their names on his tongue and thought that his voice suited them. He looked from one to the other and relished for a moment the confusion on their faces. "Can I come in?"

.

Malfoy made tea while Harry and Hermione sat at the table, both rubbing their eyes and trying not to wake themselves up. Hermione rested her head on her hands and stared at Malfoy's back, blinking several times. Harry softly nudged her on the shoulder, trying to convey his thoughts to her only through looks. What was Malfoy doing there at this time? Would it be possible that he had finally realized he like them? He and Hermione had spent so much time with him lately that Harry almost felt like they were dating Malfoy. And he and Hermione had spent so much time in _very_ close proximity that he definitely felt like the was dating her as well.

Hermione smiled and gave Harry a tiny shrug before closing her eyes for a moment, sighing deeply. Malfoy placed two cups in front of them and Hermione jerked, opening her eyes again. Malfoy sat down, looking nervous and tired. His hair looked ruffled from the sea breeze and there were bags under his eyes. Harry knew he had been with Hermione last night as usual, so he couldn't have slept more than her.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Harry asked, taking the cup and bringing it to his lips.

Malfoy nodded again, but his mouth was a straight line, as if his lips refused to open and talk. He looked at Harry and then at Hermione, who was sitting up straighter and expecting Malfoy to speak.

Malfoy drank some tea and then breathed in. "I was just wondering…" he paused, not looking at Harry and Hermione. "Did you know there's a meteor shower this Friday?"

Harry frowned and Hermione cocked her head to the side so much that she almost fell off her chair. Harry grabbed her by the shoulders and and steered her back.

Malfoy cleared his throat. "I read about it in the Daily Prophet. It's supposed to be the biggest one in over fifty years."

"That's...interesting," Hermione tried, leaning forward with her elbows on the table.

Harry nodded in agreement and Malfoy seemed even more nervous now.

"There's an old telescope on the roof of my house. Would you like to come and watch?" Malfoy finally looked up at them, looking like he was trying to seem casual.

Before he and Hermione could even share a look, they both exclaimed, "Of course!"

Malfoy looked taken aback for a moment before a genuine smile spread across his face. Harry's heart thumped.

"When is Friday?" Harry asked, having completely lost track of the days of the week a while ago.

"Day after tomorrow," Malfoy replied as he sipped more tea.

Hermione had her hands wrapped around the cup as if it was cold. Harry was almost starting to sweat from the steam of the hot tea. "Did you save the article from the Daily Prophet? I'd like to read it before Friday."

"Sure," Malfoy replied with a nod.

Harry was glad that Hermione was eager to read something. He had suspected that with Malfoy reading to her during these past few days she had regained some of her love for books; he had seen her take up some French magazines that were lying around, but she surely didn't want Malfoy to stop their nightly 'dates'.

There was a brief silence as they all drank from their cups and figured out what to do next.

Malfoy cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I woke you," he said, not looking all that sorry. "I should leave."

"No." Both Harry and Hermione reached out, hands wrapping around Malfoy's forearm and making him spill some tea on the floor. He looked surprised, but then Harry thought he might have seen the ghost of a smirk.

"You already disturbed my sleep," Hermione said with s shrug. "You might as well stay."

Harry definitely agreed with Hermione, he wanted Malfoy to stay, but he soon realized that things could get rather awkward, fast. For starters, he and Hermione had still not removed their hands from Malfoy.

They did, Harry rather slowly and Hermione in a rush, both clearly thinking that their way would make things less uncomfortable. They all looked at each other briefly before drinking more tea. Harry's was almost finished.

"I wish this house had a TV. We could really use some movies." Hermione got to her feet and started looking around the place, as if finding the Muggle object that would break the ice.

Malfoy was frowning. "What are movies?" he asked Harry, his voice slightly lowered as if he didn't want Hermione to know he didn't know what she was talking about.

"It's a Muggle thing," Harry replied, his voice equally low but amused. "I'll explain later."

"Oh," Hermione turned to them with a triumphant look that she usually wore when she had an idea. "I saw board games upstairs. I'll go get them."

Harry automatically looked at Malfoy and he was pleasantly surprised to find him looking right back. Sharing a disbelieving look with him over Hermione's antics felt so familiar to Harry that a shiver ran down his spine.

"Rude," Hermione admonished, rolling her eyes. "It'll be fun. You'll see."

Harry heard Malfoy start to scoff but he cut himself off the next second. As Hermione spun around and started running up the stairs, her dress swayed around her, revealing not only the back of her thighs, but a flash of violet that was surely the reason for Malfoy's sudden silence.

When he and Harry looked at each other again, making fun of Hermione was the last thing in their minds. Malfoy's cheeks had gotten pink and he was looking at Harry curiously, as if what had just happened was the most interesting thing he'd seen all week.

Was it possible that Malfoy didn't know that Harry and Hermione fancied each other? Harry had thought that it was fairly obvious at this point, but thinking back he remembered that they had made a big deal out of the fact that they were most definitely not a couple when they first met Malfoy here.

Harry looked down, at his empty cup and then pretended to drink from it. There were rustling noises upstairs and a moment later Hermione appeared, carrying a few dusty, colorful boxes.

"Most of the games are incomplete," she mentioned as she set them down on the coffee table. "And in French. But you know some French, don't you?"

She was looking at Malfoy, who shrugged. "I can get around."

"Great. Oh and also… " Hermione walked back towards the kitchen, and she crouched down in front of the cabinet under the sink. A second later she stood up, smiling and holding a bottle of dark golden liquor.

Both Harry and Malfoy leaned back in their chairs as far as they could, like trying to out some distance between themselves and Hermione.

"I think you're still asleep," Harry told her with his brows raised high. "Because you must be dreaming if you're thinking about drinking this early in the morning."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm perfectly awake. You thought board games was a boring idea? Well let's see how bored you'll really get."

Malfoy was looking at Hermione through narrowed eyes, as if trying to decide if this was a joke or test of some kind. Then he looked at the bottle, that had an elegant royal blue label and words in french. "Is that vin de liqueur?" He asked in an impressive french accent.

Hermione took a closer look at the bottle in her hand and then nodded. "Fortified with brandy. Much less strong than firewhiskey." She looked at Harry. "So?"

At their continued silence, Hermione pulled out the chair closest to Malfoy and sat down, putting the bottle in the middle of the table with a dull thud. "If you two have a better idea for entertainment," she looked into Harry's eyes and then Malfoy's. They both shifted uncomfortably under Hermione's determined, and quite honestly, terrifying gaze. "I'd like to hear it."

Harry had no idea how Hermione could have been falling asleep on top of her tea one moment and ready to pound shots the next.

"I'm in," Malfoy said, slamming his hand on the table. Hermione beamed.

She and Malfoy stared at Harry. Harry looked at the bottle and his stomach churned. "It's barely seven in the morning," he complained.

"Come on, Harry. Your day is my night, my night is your day. It doesn't matter anymore."

Malfoy smiled at this and Harry wondered why.

Hermione leaned in and placed her hand over Harry's. "We didn't come here to sleep all the time."

Harry chuckled. "Are you suggesting we came here to get wasted with Malfoy? Because even you didn't see that coming."

"No one sees me coming, Potter." Malfoy smirked fully this time.

It was the first time Harry felt like he was dealing with the real Malfoy since he knocked on their door earlier today. He had been quiet and nervous but now Harry was glad to see that smirk.

He looked back at Hermione who was still beaming.

"Fine," he groaned. "But I'm making breakfast first."


	15. Spark

**Chapter Fifteen - Spark**

Harry cooked a deliberately slow breakfast while Hermione and Draco tried to figure out the parts of the board games they had. In the end they settled for playing half a wizarding party game and half a simple questions and answers game.

"I should be getting extra points just for translating while we play," Draco said, shuffling a deck of cards.

Hermione considered him. "Alright. But every time you take longer than thirty seconds to translate something, you take a shot."

"Deal." He nodded. "But if that's a rule for me, then a rule for you should be that Potter and I get to choose the wizarding knowledge questions you answer."

"Why?" she asked, disconcerted.

"Because you know a lot of useless rubbish about the wizarding world," Harry chimed in, placing plates of food in front of both Hermione and Draco and then sitting down with his own plate.

She rolled her eyes. "I'd hardly call it useless since it could mean I win the game." She picked up a knife and started buttering some toast. "But I'll agree if we all follow another rule."

Harry and Draco looked like they were trying not to look at each other.

"We have to take a shot everytime we call each other by our last names."

Harry's mouth dropped. "That's not fair! You're the only one who's gotten used to calling him 'Draco'."

"And," Malfoy added, looking just as afraid of this rule as Harry. "I have to remember to do it with _two_ names. You lot only need to remember the loveliest name in the wizarding world."

Draco's antics made both Harry and Hermione shake their heads in amusement.

"I'll do it if you take a shot every time you scolds us for something," Harry said, looking intently at Hermione.

Draco laughed. "Please, she'll pass out before we've even started."

"Shut up. I'll do it, even though that means I have to abide by three rules and not just two." She took a bite out of her toast. "But we need another rule for Harry."

Draco turned to stare at Harry. Harry had put his glasses back on, but he still looked ruffled from sleep and quite handsome, if Hermione did say so herself. She had always thought Harry looked better when he wasn't paying any attention to how he looked. Harry seemed to blush slightly from all the attention being focused on him at the moment. Hermione could almost feel the way his heart must have started to race at the way Draco was searching Harry's face with all the time and care in the world.

"I know," Draco announced finally, a wicked smile on his lips. "You have to take a shot every time you push up your glasses."

Harry was actually half way through doing exactly that but he stopped abruptly, frowning. "Do I really do it that often?"

Hermione was sure he did, but she barely noticed it anymore.

With all the rules settled, they finished eating and then arranged the living room so they could sit comfortably around the coffee table, with a thick carpet and transfigured cushions over the floor. The sun was shining brightly through the windows now, and Hermione could barely believe she was about to play a drinking game with her best friend and her former enemy at eight thirty in the morning. It was as if all the rules of normalcy had been switched and flipped around. You weren't supposed to fancy your best friend. You weren't supposed to fancy your worst enemy. You weren't supposed to drink alcohol before lunch. You weren't supposed to hide from society for over three months and avoid all your family, friends, and responsibilities. And you weren't supposed _not_ to get better after doing that.

She had screwed up enough already, but she felt oddly determined to win this game.

It was her turn first, and to her dismay, she landed directly on the 'action' square after a unfortunate dice roll. She had to do a dare. Her heart started hammering at the thought of Harry and Draco deciding a dare for her.

"Take a card," Draco said, offering her the deck.

Hermione stared at it for a second, her heart slowing down again. She had forgotten there was a dare deck. She took one and tried to translate it herself, but she ended up letting Draco read it.

"Take a shot, and spin around three times before summoning the nearest red object," Draco read. Harry snickered.

"Seriously?" she asked, but reached for the bottle anyway.

"This is an easy one," Draco said. "I take it you've never played wizarding board games?"

Both Harry and Hermione shook their heads and Draco smiled in a while that let them know that this was going to be really fun for him.

Hermione poured the shot and smelled the liquid before pouring it down her throat. It was sweeter than wine, but it also burned in a way that wine didn't. She grimaced and shook her head a bit before standing up with her wand in hand. She located a red apple that was sitting on the kitchen counter and spun around in place three times, trying to stop while facing the apple.

"Accio apple!"

The apple flew out to her, but she barely managed to catch it as the spinning had made her stumble to the side. She looked down at Harry, who had his eyebrows raised and looked exactly like Hermione felt. This would be more challenging than previously thought.

Harry rolled next, landing himself in the questions about contemporary magical culture.

"Where is the Ministry of Magic located?" Draco read. "Bear in mind that this must be referring to the french ministry of magic."

Harry looked dumbfounded, and he looked at Hermione as if trying to get the answer from her.

She shrugged. "Sorry. My file of facts seems to be broken for being so _useless_."

Harry shot her a dirty look before sighing. "I don't know. Paris, I guess?"

The card flew out of Draco's hand and placed itself neatly at the bottom of the deck.

"You were lucky you didn't have to be more specific, Potter." Draco shook his head in disbelief and then stopped, looking up at them with trepidation.

"Drink up," Harry said with a satisfied smirk. Draco groaned but did it anyway, nodding appreciatively at the bottle after swallowing.

Draco rolled a seven and got what Hermione could only describe as reverse wizarding charades. She and Harry had to perform a previously agreed spell without saying the incantation out loud and Draco had to guess what it was.

Hermione suggested confusing him by using 'aberto' to open the door and make Draco think it was 'alohomora', so she and Harry got in position, pointing their wands to the door and on the count of three, swishing them around and performing the wordless spell. The door flung open at once, probably harder than it would have done with just one spell. They looked back at Draco expectantly.

"Alohomora? Seriously?" he asked with a condescending smile.

Harry and Hermione laughed together. "Drink! It was 'aberto'," Harry explained with a grin.

Draco narrowed his grey eyes at them. "This has Gran-" he cut himself off, looking terrified. "Hermione. This has Hermione written all over it. I'll get you back." And then he threw back another shot.

With just one round in, Hermione could already say that this was the most entertaining board game she had ever played.

After she rolled again, Draco and Harry were huddled together, deep in a whispered conversation and looking at the card in Draco's hand. Finally, they straightened up and Harry cleared his throat. "When did the famous seer Cassandra Vablatsky passed away?"

Hermione remembered having read about it in the Prophet but for the life of her the date wouldn't come. This must have been Harry's doing, as he knew Hermione didn't care much for seers and divination. When she took more than a few seconds to answer, both Harry and Draco smiled triumphantly.

"Yes, yes, good one," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I remember it wasn't long ago. December, Ninety ninety three?"

The faces of the boys in front of her fell, hard.

"How is that possible?" Draco complained as the card flew out of his hand. "How could you guess that?"

"I got lucky." Hermione shrugged with a smile. Harry looked like he should have known Hermione would answer correctly.

He and Draco were still very close to each other, Hermione noticed. Their arms were brushing together, and she wondered why Draco hadn't gotten back to his spot after discussing the question with Harry.

"My turn," Harry said as he picked up the dice. Draco still wasn't moving away from him and Hermione took the opportunity to roam her eyes over both of them, together. They contrasted greatly, but in all the right ways according to Hermione. Harry's dark hair and skin against Draco's paleness. Harry's clear green eyes against Draco's enigmatic grey ones. The carelessness with which Harry carried himself against Draco's calculated demeanor.

Hermione thought that there was nothing she would rather see more than the two of them kissing.

When Harry landed on 'vérité', Draco's eyebrows shot up and he moved away with a sly smile.

"What is it?" Harry asked innocently.

Hermione smiled too, but more out of nerves than anything else. "We get to ask you a question and you have to ask with complete honesty."

Harry looked apprehensive, and for the first time in a while he and Hermione exchanged a look. An anxious one. Less than six months ago the thought of revealing their secrets to Draco Malfoy was terrifying as well, but for entirely different reasons. Was Harry ready to admit to Draco that he liked him? Was Draco ready to hear it? What would happen next after a revelation like that?

Before she could ponder anything else, Draco was moving closer to her. "I take it you already know everything about Potter." He dropped his head in his hands and swore. "Fuck. Fuck! Harry. For Merlin's sake just hand me the damn bottle."

Draco took another shot and looked back at Hermione. "So you won't mind letting me choose the question, right?"

Hermione tried to look at Harry for approval of this, but Draco's face was too close to her and his eyes didn't waver. Hermione shrugged one shoulder. "I suppose…"

Draco grinned and turned back to Harry. "Alright. Now, you can choose not to answer and take a shot," Draco explained, looking far too eager to get his question out.

Harry nodded and gulped.

"I've been wondering…" Draco started and Hermione held her breath. "Do you purposefully make your hair look so carelessly disheveled or is it truly natural?"

The words floated in the air between the three of them for a moment before Harry threw his head back, laughing. "Are you serious?" he asked with difficulty as he continued to laugh. Hermione was so surprised that _that_ was what Draco wanted to know that she could only let her mouth hang open.

"Why would I purposefully make my hair look like _this_?" Harry pointed at his own hair. "It makes no sense it just goes anywhere it wants!"

Draco looked like he was biting down a smile. "If I had hair like that I would _make it_ obey me."

Harry, still laughing, shook his head. "I dare you to try and get my hair under control."

Hermione saw that Draco's hands actually twitched, and he seemed to be holding himself back from going over to Harry's and doing exactly as Harry had said.

Harry's laughter died out and what remained in the silence was Draco with his eyes fixed on Harry. Hermione shook her head a little. "Draco, it's your turn."

He nodded and reached out for the dice automatically, his eyes finally leaving Harry to watch what he had rolled.

After numerous rounds of ridiculous magical dares and questions; they had all had their fair share of shots. Harry was currently winning as he hadn't had to drink as much as Draco and Hermione, but he caught up quickly nevertheless and looked like the effects of the alcohol were not lost on him. When his glasses were slowly riding down his nose, Hermione saw his hand reaching up and she was about to warn him not to push up his glasses when Draco's hand clamped over her mouth, effectively silencing her.

Harry pushed up his glasses and Draco pumped his other fist into the air triumphantly. "Take a shot, _Harry_." He emphasized his name and Hermione wondered if it was possible that the alcohol was actually making Draco a better player.

But one of Draco's hands was still over her mouth and she had a hard time focusing on anything else. For a split second she played with the idea of actually biting him, but she quickly discarded it as something really silly. Harry looked at her with a teasing smile over his shot glass and she glared at him.

Draco looked at her and seemed mildly surprised that he hadn't removed his hand, so he did so quickly. "Sorry. Couldn't let you ruin it."

"That's alright," she murmured and cleared her throat. "I think it's my turn."

The chances of getting a personal questions or dares were smaller than the rest, so she hadn't worried about it too much. Besides, there was always the possibility of taking a shot instead of doing it. She landed on a question mark that she didn't remember seeing before.

She looked up questioningly at Draco who was fumbling with the rules of the party game.

His eyes were narrowed in concentration and it hit Hermione unexpectedly how adorable Draco could look sometimes. "It's like a wild card. You can choose either dare or question."

"Oh." Hermione considered for a moment. During the last dare Harry had to balance a cup over his head while shooting water _and_ light from his wand, thus creating a rainbow. He managed surprisingly well until the last second when the cup fell and shattered, and he had to take a shot anyway. She already felt quite tipsy, so she didn't felt like risking it.

"Question," she announced and reached for the general knowledge deck, but Harry stopped her, his hand over hers.

"Wait. Does it specify the kind of question?" He directed the question to Draco, who was still reading the rules.

Draco shook his head. "No."

Then Harry looked at Hermione. "Can I ask the question?"

Hermione was taken aback by this. What could Harry possibly have to ask her that he couldn't have done before? She frowned at him, and Harry blushed slightly, which only increased Hermione's curiosity tenfold. She trusted Harry, so she nodded.

Draco had dropped the rules to the side and was looking delighted by this development, looking at them expectantly.

Harry leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands together. "I just…" He looked up at the ceiling, as if trying to find the correct words. He finally looked at her. "Where do you keep your wand?"

Hermione stared at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Harry's cheeks reddened even more. "You're always wearing a dress. Yet, you always seem to have your wand on you, pulling it out of nowhere. I don't understand."

Draco gasped. "It's true. I always think there's no possible way you've got your wand and then...there it is."

Hermione stifled a laugh. It was clear Harry had been itching to find out about this and the vin de liqueur had finally given him the courage. What did they think she did with her wand? Keep it between her breasts or...worse? She blushed too, but she was entirely too tipsy and amused to let this opportunity go to waste, so she tried to keep a neutral face as she reached for the bottle and her shot glass and started filling it up. Upon seeing this, both Draco's and Harry's eyes went wide as plates, and they looked at each other with the utmost shock, their faces crimson.

Hermione brought the shot up to her lips and gave them a teasing look before putting it back down on the table and cracking up.

"I can't believe you're so gullible," she laughed, leaning back against her cushion and enjoying the disconcerting looks Draco and Harry were giving her. She laughed some more and then got to her feet, her wand in her hand.

"After Draco showed up here and we decided to start carrying wands again," she explained and Draco rolled his eyes dramatically. "I charmed all my dresses to have a small, wand-size pocket right here." She showed them the almost invisible pocket that sat right on top of her left hip, and then she slipped her wand inside and opened up her arms to the sides as if presenting something incredible. "Magic!"

Draco shook his head disbelievingly. "All because you couldn't be bothered to wear trousers."

"In this heat?" She sat back down and handed the dice to Harry. "You two should take a shot for being so credulous."

Harry rolled the dice, his face still a little flushed. "And you for being a liar." He landed on the square with a small shot glass drawn and they all groaned but reached for their shot glasses anyway.

Next, Draco had to transfigure a cushion into an owl while being levitated by Harry and Hermione, who kept pretending they were about to drop him, making him miss the cushion and transfigure his own sock into a tiny bird.

"Who's winning?" Harry asked as they all sat back down and Draco finished his shot.

They all looked at each other as if they were sure one of the others would have the right answer. But it became clear that no one had continued to keep score after a while. Hermione knew she had done at least seven shots, three of which caused by a random bursts of scolding that she hadn't been able to control. She had no idea whether Harry and Draco had had more or less than her.

"Well it doesn't matter," Harry said. "Are you hungry? It's nearly noon."

Hermione looked out the window. It had been so long since she had seen the sun shine so brightly; she was only used to sunsets or sunrises at most, and the fact that she was only seeing it now because she had been drinking made a wave of sadness wash over the contentment she had been feeling. She felt so pathetic.

"Let's play a couple more rounds, don't be a wimp Harry," Draco told him, only slurring a little.

Harry ignored him and looked at Hermione for her opinion.

"What's one more round or two? We can eat after," she said and attempted to smile. Maybe by continuing to play she could forget about the rush of negative feelings she'd had.

She tried to focus on Harry, on his beautiful lips that she had kissed hours ago before falling asleep next to him. Sometimes she couldn't believe she got to kiss and touch and be so close with someone as wonderful as him. It was incredibly lucky that he liked her as well, otherwise their friendship would have taken a blow.

The sound of the dice hitting the board made Hermione snap out of her thoughts and take her eyes off Harry. To her surprise, Draco was looking at her, and there was something strangely intense about the way he was staring, but not in a good way. Hermione felt her chest tighten.

"Six," Harry announced suddenly, making Draco and Hermione turn to him. " _Vérité_ again," he said in a mock French accent.

Hermione wasn't sure why, but she glanced sideways at Draco, who was again looking at her. "Do you have any questions for him, Hermione?"

The way Draco had said her name made goosebumps erupt all over her skin, but again, not in a good way.

Hermione couldn't think of anything, so she merely shook her head and hoped that Draco stuck to innocent questions as he had done during the whole game.

Harry didn't look at all concerned, and Hermione wondered if Draco had lured them into some false sense of security so they didn't see it coming when he tried to find out something important.

But when Hermione thought about it, she didn't think they had anything that important to keep secret. Sure, they both fancied Draco and were hoping he would like them back, but they had been planning on telling him eventually. Hermione took a deep breath, telling herself that everything would be alright.

Draco straightened up and looked serious. "Are the two of you… Together?"

His voice was softer and more tentative than Hermione had expected, and he wasn't just looking at Harry, his eyes moving to her as well.

The silence was absolute, at least for the first few seconds. Harry and Hermione shared a quick look and then Harry shifted, leaning towards Draco. "Well, we haven't really discussed it as such but…" he trailed off and Hermione merely nodded, unable to speak.

Draco frowned. "What?" His voice was angrier than before and Hermione felt a sudden foreboding of something bad.

"What?" Harry repeated, looking thoroughly lost.

"I don't understand," Draco said, looking between the two of them. "Are you dating?"

Again, Harry turned to Hermione as if looking for confirmation. When she did nothing but gape at him, he looked back at Draco. "Something like that."

Something dark seemed to settle over Draco's eyes. "What does that mean? Have you kissed?"

Hermione thought briefly about telling Draco that he had already asked his question, but this was way beyond the game, and there were no rules in real life.

Harry looked incredulously at Draco. "Well, yes!" he exclaimed as it was the most obvious thing in the world. Hermione still couldn't make her voice function.

Draco stood up suddenly and Hermione and Harry followed, the atmosphere tense all around.

"Last time I checked, the idea of the two of you together seemed laughable," Draco barked dangerously, a familiar but not pleasant sneer on his face. "But now, _I'm_ the idiot for not knowing, am I?"

"No!" Harry shook his head and pushed up his glasses. "There just wasn't anything between us when you first asked!"

"But no one thought it convenient to tell me during one of the _many_ times we saw each other?" Draco's voice was cold with anger but Hermione could hear the vulnerability behind it. "I wonder what _else_ you thought wasn't worth mentioning?"

He looked at them with a gloomy suspicion that made Hermione realize what he was talking about, so before Harry could say anything, or before she could even think about it properly, the words burst out of her. "We've had sex too."

Harry's jaw dropped and he turned to her with wide eyes. "Hermione!"

But Hermione could only focus on Draco and the way his face showed unmistakable signs of hurt before setting back to anger.

"So this was just a laugh, wasn't it?" Draco signaled between the three of them. Harry was shaking his head but Draco spoke again. "Making fun of how pathetic _Malfoy_ is while you're locked in here shagging for hours on end!"

"No!" both Harry and Hermione shouted at the same time. Hermione felt like crying now.

"I should have known," Draco laughed coldly and tapped his temple with his forefinger. "I should have known I could never get between the world's most magical duo! The chosen one and the brightest one, destined to be together!"

"It's not like that!" Hermione had snapped, and she stepped around the coffee table to get closer to Draco, who took several steps back. "You have to listen!"

"Is this your idea of revenge?" Draco spat, completely ignoring Hermione. "Getting my hopes up because you find it funny? Or because it's part of some sick, perverted game?" His face twisted in disgust and then he pulled his wand out.

Harry and Hermione froze in place, suddenly alarmed at what Draco might do.

Harry took a tentative step towards him. "Draco, listen. When you and I kissed-"

"Don't you _dare_ talk about that, Potter!" Draco shouted, pointing his wand at Harry. "Didn't you two already discussed enough the details of your little joke?"

"You think caring about you is a joke?" Hermione cried in desperation. She wanted to shake him and slap some sense into him, but all she could do was hope that he wouldn't do anything rash and listen to them.

Draco's eyes bore into her, so resentful and hurt that it send chills down her spine. "Lying about it is."

He stepped back one more time and with surprising quickness for someone who had about a third of a bottle of alcohol in their system, he disapparated. The sudden noise and movement made Hermione feel dizzy, and she stumbled back slightly before realizing what had happened.

"We have to go get him," Harry rushed, reaching for Hermione's hand and pulling her to the door. But Hermione had started crying and didn't budge. Harry looked at her urgently, almost desperately. "We might never get this chance again. It has to be now."

Hermione was almost certain that their chance was already gone, but she nodded anyway.


	16. Storm

**Chapter Sixteen - Storm**

Draco kicked open the door of his bedroom and summoned the large trunk that was under his bed. It almost hit him in the shins for summoning it with such carelessness, but he managed to avoid it just in time. He started waving his wand around the room and different items of clothing flew from their spots on the floor or closet and landed in his trunk.

He knew he wasn't nearly as ready as he should have been, but he needed to get out of there as soon as possible. Going to the Manor was a sickening thought, but Potter and Granger would be arriving at his door any second now, he knew it. They wouldn't be able to enter, but he couldn't stand to listen to their voices or rock-throwing right now. He needed to leave before then.

The amount of clothes he had brought seemed endless and he waved his wand even faster now trying to speed up the process. When he finished he levitated the trunk out to the living room and threw it next to the fireplace. He looked around and thought briefly about taking the unopened sleeping potions with him, but he'd be able to get more back in England. There was also the issue of the food that would be left in the kitchen.

Food that he had planned to cook and eat with Granger and Potter.

He shook his head to rid himself of the thought. He could get a house elf to come back for the food later.

Suddenly he heard a crack and looked over his shoulder so rapidly that his neck hurt. They were already here.

Draco summoned his last belonging, the umbrella by the door, and scrambled for the bowl of floo powder on the table next to the fireplace, grabbing a big messy handful and knocking the entire thing to the floor before throwing the green powder all over the flames. The door rattled. He flung both the umbrella and his trunk into the fireplace and stepped in, his heart hammering in his chest. He opened his mouth to call the name of the place he never thought he'd be returning to so soon, but the words got caught in his throat with a loud bang, and two figures running into the living room and stopping on their tracks upon seeing him.

Before he could even draw breath, they started running towards him again and he panicked.

"Malfoy Manor!"

The emerald flames rose and engulfed him, but not before a hand wrapped around his ankle and another clutched at his trousers.

Draco looked around hurriedly, watching the other fireplaces zoom by and wondering if they could get to a different one instead, he didn't care if they ended up in Norway or Spain; any other place but the one they were now inevitably traveling to.

The landing was more painful than he had imagined, and he was pretty sure he heard someone's bones breaking. A cloud of soot was blurring his vision, but he recognized Potter trying to crawl from under Draco's right leg, coughing furiously while Granger pushed the trunk off her and extricated herself from the mass of limbs.

After a moment or two, Draco was able to climb out of the fireplace, but he almost didn't want to. He had just arrived to his family house with none other than Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. Nothing good could come from this.

Potter was still on the floor, clutching his right hand and grimacing as Granger leaned over him trying to get a look at his fingers.

"They're broken," Potter told her through gritted teeth and Granger waved her wand over them, mumbling an incantation.

Draco ran right past them and closed the door to the sitting room they were now in. He was glad no one had been around when they landed, but with the ruckus they had made someone would surely come in sooner or later. He locked the door, his heart still racing wildly, and sprinted to the other door on the opposite side of the room, locking it as well. As he looked around trying to locate any other entrance into the room, he realized with a horrible, almost painful pang, that this was _the_ room. _The_ room where all three of them, plus Weasley, had stood while Draco's family begged him to identify Potter and deliver him to the Dark Lord. _The_ room where Draco had taken all their wands and watched them as they were taken away as prisoners. _The_ room where Granger was tortured by his aunt. _The_ room where they dueled him and his family but managed to escape, much to Draco's reluctant relief.

Draco's head swam, his vision becoming hazy and his legs weak. He had taken them back to _this_ place, the absolute worst of all horrible places. He didn't know if he could bear to look at them and see the dawning realization on their faces. The anger, the hurt, the fear, the _hate_.

"Draco?" Granger called with a shaky voice. Draco couldn't move, he was rooted to the spot and had no idea how to get out of this. The amount of memories and feelings was so large that he felt as though he was being crushed to the ground by the weight of it.

He watched as Potter got to his feet and looked around, apparently already healed by Granger's magic. Draco closed his eyes, thinking it was better not to see what they would do next. If he was lucky they might even leave without another word. But behind his eyelids the reality was even worse, as he could only see the events of that awful day replaying again and again and again until he was forced to open his eyes once more.

Potter and Granger were looking at him and he stared right back into brown and green. It had all felt so different just a few hours back. He had been a different person in a different universe, one where the sun was brighter and the air was hotter, but also one where he had allowed himself to fall for not one but _two_ people he had once hated. Because they were all different there and everything else was light years away, where it didn't matter.

But this was not light years away. This was right here in front of their eyes; every wall, every piece of furniture, every cold draft, and even the air itself was bleeding with a sickening, rotten reality.

And they couldn't ignore it.

"Are…" Potter started, looking uncomfortable and apprehensive. "Are your parents here?"

Draco wasn't sure he would be able to talk, but he forced himself to croak a weak, "They should."

His parents were only allowed to leave under the Ministry's instructions, and as far as Draco knew, they had only done so once or twice when they were called as witnesses for other's trials.

Granger looked as sick as Draco felt, but he knew that her memories of this place were far more painful that Draco could ever imagine. He felt a desperate need to make her forget everything, to protect her somehow of all the terrors that he had indirectly caused, to remove her from this environment.

He braced himself. "Leave," he said, taking a small step towards them and ignoring the guilt blowing up inside him.

When they did nothing more than stare at him, hurt and confused, he took another step and summoned all his strength. "Leave!"

They shouldn't stay here any longer; they shouldn't even be here in the first place just because of him. He had to get them out. They would fight, he knew, because they always fought and they had risked themselves to follow him here, but if he had to hurt them to get them to leave, then that's what he would do.

He didn't know where this new rush of energy had come from, but suddenly he was walking up to them, his wand pointing menacingly and his face contorted in rage. "Get out! Get out right now!"

They stood their ground, forgetting the previous uncomfort and raising their wands at him as if nothing had happened and they were back in school, back to hating each other, back to that night when they stood right there and battled in opposite sides.

"Not unless you come with us!" Granger cried with a force that Draco also didn't understand.

And then he realized that this time they were on the same side.

"I can't," he countered, his voice weaker and his eyes starting to sting. " _You_ have to leave!"

"No!" Potter said. "We're not leaving without you."

Draco started shaking from head to toe, his wand sending feeble sparks to the floor. They had to leave. They shouldn't have to relive every horrible detail of that night just because of him. They shouldn't have to remember what it was like to be tortured. They shouldn't have to remember what it was like to be at war. They shouldn't have to remember what Draco used to be like.

He barely noticed that he had lowered his wand and started crying freely, because all he could think about was getting them out of there, no matter what.

Draco ran towards the fireplace, taking the bowl of floo powder before dumping it all out on the flames and getting in, right on top of his trunk that had remained there. It took Granger and Potter less than a second to follow him, and he waited until they had their foots in before shouting, "Montpellier Cottage!"

They spun upwards again and managed to land slightly less painfully this time, back where they had been minutes (though it felt like a lifetime) ago.

Potter and Granger scrambled out of the fireplace, still out of breath and panting. But Draco didn't get out. He crouched down to the floor and reached a hand out to where he knew the floo powder had spilled, and he frantically collected as much as he could from the floor.

Something hard stabbed him painfully on the neck and he looked up to see the threatening faces of Potter and Granger, both wands jammed into his neck.

"Don't you dare," Granger said slowly.

Draco hadn't thought his clearly terrible plan through, he was just desperate and couldn't stand seeing them in that sitting room any longer. But now he realized that there was absolutely no way they were going to let him go back, so he opened his hand, letting the powder escape and hung his head in defeat.

They pulled him out of the fireplace and Potter made the remaining powder disappear with a flick of his wand. Draco crumpled to the ground.

He didn't want to hear whatever they had to say, he didn't even want to look at them. He felt more ashamed and disheartened than he had ever felt in his life and all he wanted to do was cry without being seen.

He hid his face in his hands, facing the floor and wondering who'd speak first.

But seconds dragged by, slow and unwanted, and there was only silence.

Draco's heart skipped a beat when someone sat down next to him. And a few seconds later, his other side was occupied as well. They didn't touch him, or made any attempts to talk, and Draco wasn't sure of who was sitting where. He was simply profoundly aware of a reality where they were there.

.

Harry's head was pounding when he woke up. He appreciated the darkness, because he was sure it would have been very painful to open his eyes. For a moment panic rose in his chest at the unfamiliar surroundings, but then he recognized Draco lying next to him, and then Hermione on Draco's other side. They were both asleep, curled up on the hard floor which explained Harry's stiff neck, on top of his headache. Everything that had happened came back to Harry in a rush and he couldn't help a soft whispered, "Fuck."

Draco stirred, but he didn't wake up.

Harry barely remembered falling asleep, but when Draco had laid back, his eyes resolutely closed, Harry and Hermione looked at each other and did the same, letting the exhaustion and quiet wash over them.

He had no idea what time it was, but they must have been sleeping for at least five hours for it to be this dark outside. The distant murmur of waves and the soft breathing of Draco and Hermione was all that could be heard. Harry sat up and watched them for a few moments as he tried to decide what to do next. The idea of falling back asleep on this floor was too awful to eve consider, but he didn't want to wake them up just yet; they had barely gotten any sleep the night before.

Draco stirred again and he rolled onto his back. Harry's heart started racing, but when Draco didn't wake up an instead began trembling and sweating despite the lack of intense heat, Harry felt his stomach drop. Draco was clearly having a nightmare, but Harry wasn't sure if waking him up would be the right thing to do. He reached a tentative hand to Draco's head and grazed his forehead softly, pushing back some of his hair and then running his fingers through the soft strands. He continued doing this for a few seconds until Draco's stirring eased a little and his face relaxed somewhat. Harry smiled to himself, and without noticing his hand had started to lower down to Draco's neck and collarbone. Suddenly, one of Draco's hand flew up and landed on top of Harry's, as if trying to swat down a mosquito that was on him, and Harry had to stifle a yelp. Draco's hand closed around Harry's and he held it tightly to his chest before rolling onto his side, his back to Harry, who ended up in a very uncomfortable position, in between sitting and lying down on his side with his arm around Draco. Harry saw Draco snuggling over Hermione's mass of hair that laid on the floor next to him, and then with a deep, calming breath he was unmoving once more.

Harry thought that it might be possible to pull his arm back if he was careful enough, but all in all, a stiff neck was worth having Draco sleep peacefully while clutching Harry's hand and cuddling Hermione's hair.

It was a few more hours before Harry woke up again, strangely much more rested this time. The first thing he noticed, though, was a lack of heat in front of him, and specially around his arm and hand that had even started to sweat at one point during the night. The second thing, was that someone was talking.

"Relax," he heard Hermione say soothingly.

He forced his eyes to open and was blinded by warm morning light. Hermione was sitting and she looked up with a worried expression. Harry rolled onto his back and found Draco standing over him and Hermione, looking down at the place where Harry guessed he had just found himself, sleeping soundly in between Harry and Hermione. Draco looked distressed.

"Did...did you just get here?" Draco asked apprehensively, like he feared the answer.

"No," Hermione explained, her voice soft and careful. "We were with you last night too, remember?"

Draco looked like he was remembering, as his face went from anxious to understanding and then straight to terrified. He shook his head and covered his face with his hands. "I had so many nightmares that…" he trailed off, his voice shaky. "I couldn't remember what was real."

Harry and Hermione shared a worried look as Harry sat up.

"Nothing bad happened," Hermione assured Draco, getting slowly to her feet, as if not to scare him.

Draco's hands dropped, revealing his angered face. Both Harry and Hermione jerked back in surprise. " _Nothing_ bad happened?" he repeated slowly. "So we _didn't_ floo to my house? A Death Eater's house? A literal _battlefield_ during the war?"

Harry felt suddenly very awake, and he got to his feet too, sensing how the situation would escalate rapidly.

"Yes, but that doesn't matter!" Hermione said, now getting exasperated. "That's in the past!"

Draco barked a laugh, cold and bitter. "That's what it feels like, doesn't it? But it happened barely over a year ago! There is no way that anything's really changed in that time." He started shaking his head again, not looking at Harry, not looking at Hermione, merely staring into empty space and looking miserable. "It's not enough time."

Draco's last words were barely audible, but they made Harry's chest feel tight. He could tell Hermione had been rendered speechless by the same feeling, so he swallowed hard. "But you'd already begun to change," Harry told Draco, who focused on Harry once more. "Look, if you don't think enough time has passed for…" He gestured vaguely in between the three of them. "Whatever this might be, that's alright. Even if you feel like there will never be a big enough amount of time, that's still alright."

Draco's shoulders dropped slightly. Harry could see in his face the small disappointment at the lack of persistence, and for a moment he almost smiled, but he controlled it. "But before any of that, you need to hear me and Hermione out."

Silence reigned for a few seconds and for a moment Harry thought that Draco would argue once more, but then he sighed deeply. "You took away all the floo powder and there's no way I can apparate back to England."

Harry did smile then, and so did Hermione. "Let's make some tea," she said and led the way to the kitchen.


	17. Flood

**Chapter Seventeen - Flood**

"How did you even get through the wards?" Draco asked after finishing his second cup of tea in complete silence.

They were sitting in the kitchen at a small table with exactly three chairs, and Hermione briefly thought about Draco and his parents, sitting in this very place and having breakfast without a worry in the world.

Harry dug into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a sock with a few feathers still attached to it. "Hermione picked it up just as we were coming to get you."

Seeing Draco's puzzled expression, Hermione explained, "I thought that if we were able to come in just by being in contact with part of your clothes, then this would work too."

Draco's brows rose, as if impressed by this. "I guess my ancestors didn't imagine a scenario in which a Malfoy would go around leaving his socks in other people's houses."

Hermione couldn't tell if Draco thought it was a good or a bad thing that he was the kind of Malfoy that would leave socks in other people's houses, but she definitely thought it was a good thing, and judging from Harry's face, he did too.

"What a disappointment," Harry lamented sarcastically, his lips twitching. Draco said nothing.

Hermione took a sip of her tea and decided that she wanted to be the one to bring out the subject, even though her stomach dropped at the thought of Draco's possible negative reaction.

"The night after you and I kissed," Hermione started, feeling the weight of Draco's and Harry's eyes on her while she looked down at her cup. "I decided to tell Harry about it."

She looked up then. Draco held her gaze for just a second before he shifted in his seat and looked down. Hermione was determined to tell Draco everything right out the gate before he even asked for it.

"Harry had told me about your kiss, so it was only fair that I did the same." Hermione's could remember perfectly well the nerves that swirled around inside her right before she confessed it to Harry, and she felt them right now too. "I thought he'd be mad at me, and maybe he should have been," she said with a shrug as she shifted her eyes to Harry. Harry smiled at her and she could tell he was remembering that night too. "But he wasn't," she continued. "Instead, he walked up to me and kissed me. That was the first time Harry and I kissed."

Draco looked up at Harry curiously, and Harry offered him a half smile, but neither said anything.

Hermione breathed in, feeling her face get hot. "And that was also the first time we...did it."

Draco's eyes traveled from Harry, who had also blushed slightly, to Hermione and back again. She could tell he wanted Hermione to keep going, despite still not speaking.

"So yes," she sighed. "It has happened more than once. And the only reason we didn't tell you was because…" Hermione searched her brain, trying to come up with the right way to explain the feelings that she herself didn't quite understand completely. "We'd have to tell you that this all happened because of you. And we'd have to tell you that neither of us have stopped thinking about you since you first showed up here. And we'd have to tell you that not only do we both like you, but we also somehow like each other as well."

Hermione bit her tongue and looked at Harry for confirmation that what she was saying was all right. He merely stared at her, but she could see in his eyes that he felt the same way, so she looked back at Draco who had his eyes fixed on the table again.

"Mostly, we'd have to tell you that we have no fucking idea what this is, or what we're doing. We just know that we didn't want to stop seeing you every night and every day. But I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner, and I understand if you don't want to forgive us." Hermione stopped talking, swallowing the knot that had formed in her throat.

Draco still looked down silently, and when it became clear that he didn't plan on speaking yet, Harry leaned forward towards him.

"I would understand it too," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "But I really hope you do, and not because I really want to kiss you again, which I do," Harry remarked sweetly, making Hermione smile. "But because at this point the most important thing is that you remain our friend."

Hermione appreciated Harry saying this, because she wholeheartedly agreed, and the thought of Draco disappearing from their lives rendered her speechless.

Draco remained unmoving, almost frozen in time as he kept looking at his empty cup, the words Harry and Hermione had said probably swimming in his mind. Hermione's heart felt dangerously close to bursting out of her.

Finally, Draco's voice broke through the palpable tension in the air, making both Harry and Hermione jump slightly.

"I don't care."

Hermione's blood seemed to turn to ice. She wanted to reach out to Harry, maybe hold his hand to let him know that they'll be okay, despite everything inside her screaming that they wouldn't.

They'd face worse, of course. They weren't going to lose themselves over a romantic disappointment or over losing a friend. The war had made them truly _lose_ friends. Lose so many.

Hermione swallowed that particular heavy feeling and tried to ignore it to focus on the matter at hands. Because what she wasn't sure would be okay was the relationship she and Harry had been sharing since the night they kissed. Draco was the reason it even existed in the first place; so how could it survive without him? Without the promise that he'll soon learn how they feel about him? Without the shared memories of kissing him? Without knowing he was out there, waiting for them day and night?

Without Draco, this getaway wouldn't have been about old forgiveness and new feelings, or about discovering that her heart could beat wildly for a _good_ reason, or about sharing secrets in the dark, or about the split second right before a kiss.

Or about feeling closer than ever to feeling happy again.

Without him, she and Harry were just two friends who had come to this God-forsaken place in order to forget about their troubles; nothing more, nothing less.

And that terrified her.

The thought that they might need Draco to hold them together made Hermione realize that maybe this had not been a good idea in the first place.

She felt like she had been replaying every moment with Harry and Draco these past few weeks in her mind for a long time, but in reality, it all happened during the fleeting seconds that Draco needed to take a shuddering breath and then speak again.

"I don't care that you kissed. I don't care that you had sex. I don't care that I didn't know about it." He looked up then, his eyes red and his jaw tight, as if he was forcing down tears.

Despite her previous distress, she felt a sudden urge to rush to Draco and comfort him.

"Obviously I did," he explained, nodding his head in the direction of the fireplace, where his trunk still rested, scratched and covered in soot. "But I don't think I do anymore. There are more important things."

Hermione felt as though the heavy pressure that had settled all around her lifted; evaporating into the air and getting drifted away by Draco's words. From the corner of her eye she saw Harry, who had been impossibly still this whole time, move slightly and she was able to smile.

Upon seeing her smile, Draco's eyes moved to Harry, and then he frowned and shook his head. "No," he said with impending obscurity, his voice low and grave. "Not better, more important things," he announced and Hermione's face fell once more. "Worse, terrible, unforgivable things."

Hermione understood what he was talking about, and her head was spinning with rapid contradictory emotions.

"How can we sit here and talk about games and kisses while sipping _tea_ ," Draco's voice grew, and with it the obvious restlessness inside him. He seemed to be inflating from the inside, his chest rising, his posture straightening, his face contorted in disgust and pain. "While everything that happened is still out there? Just one apparition away, one floo trip away, looming everywhere but the confines of the bloody beach?"

"That's not true," Harry tried, looking almost as hurt as Draco. "It's only there if you want to see it-"

"How can you _not_ see it, Potter?" Draco pleaded, shaking his head in disbelief, but looking like he was actually requesting Harry to explain the procedure. "How can you not feel it?"

Hermione let the tears run down her face, knowing that trying to stop them would be futile. Her head pounded painfully, her eyes stinging from having cried too many times in the past hours. She understood perfectly well what Draco meant, and maybe he was right. She had never thought she would once again stand in that _room_ , and she thought she wouldn't be able to take it.

But in that moment, nothing seemed more important to her than getting to Draco. The echoes of that day, of the battle, of Bellatrix, were just that. Echoes.

"That's why we're here," she managed through broken sobs. Harry's face twisted further in pain upon hearing her voice. "That's why we came, because we have to get over it."

Draco swallowed hard, shaking his head. "And have you? Because I forgot about getting over anything the second I saw you," he motioned to Harry and her. "I forgot about why I was here, and about what I should be doing. I forgot about everything."

"But that's not bad." Hermione sniffed and dried her eyes on hem of her dress. "That's goo-"

"It's not good!" Draco exclaimed, interrupting her as his chair scraped loudly against the floor and he got to his feet. "You're smart, Granger, you should know that we can't just very well forget about the past! We can't forget who you were and we can't forget who I was!"

The silence that followed sent a shiver down Hermione's spine. What could she possibly say to that? Of course they shouldn't forget what happened; she didn't want to. She closed her eyes tightly and saw the usual small crowd that haunted her dreams, and she knew she didn't want to forget any of their faces. But then someone else was with them, and for the second time she saw Draco walk among the dead. He was young and sneering and cruel, but he was also scared and suffering and broken. It pained her to see him like that, but when she opened her eyes the reality wasn't much better.

Draco's shoulders shook, the effort of holding eye contact with her and Harry apparently too much.

Harry stood up as well and exhaled loudly. "So...what?"

There was a finality in his voice that Hermione almost couldn't comprehend. Was he giving up on trying to convince Draco? Were _they_ giving up?

Draco stared at him, and he seemed to be biting his tongue, or his cheek, but then his mouth opened she was frozen.

"So I'm glad that you two kissed," he said, and Hermione knew he meant it, the sincerity in his voice startling her. "And I'm really glad that you had sex," he continued, and maybe if the circumstances were different he could have exhaled a shaky laugh, because Hermione could feel his mood lightening for a second. Draco dropped his shoulders. "And I'm really _fucking_ glad you finally decided to be together."

Harry turned his head to look at Hermione for a split second, and she saw a completely unexpected determination in his eyes that made something inside her tremble. But then his eyes were back on Draco, and Hermione followed, staring at the man who suddenly seemed to be afflicted with unmistakable fondness for both her and Harry.

"It might be the only good thing I've ever done," he whispered, barely audible, but indisputable.

Everything stopped; the birds singing outside, the glare of the sun coming in through the window, the vague smell of too strong tea, her fingernails digging into her palms, the taste of tears in her mouth. All of Hermione's senses were focused on the movement from Harry. One step. Two. And he was crashing into Draco, strong and out of control like a wave too close to the shore.

It was like watching a wreckage in reverse; the pieces putting themselves back together on sheer will alone. Backs straightening, hands coming alive, skin flushing, eyes sparkling...Hermione could barely breathe from the entrancement, and she fleetingly thought of when they rebuilt Hogwarts; everything looked like it belonged.

Harry held Draco close, one hand on his back and the other curling around his hair as Draco clung to Harry's t-shirt with white, trembling hands. They both shut their eyes so tightly that Hermione could see the worry lines on their faces, afraid to see what might break if something didn't go right. But Hermione could see, she could see for the both of them, and there was nothing fragile or on the edge about what they were doing. It was solid, liberating and oh so beautiful.

She hadn't realized she had gotten to her feet, or that she had walked right up to them, but there she was, staring closely at all the parts where Draco and Harry were connected and thinking that if Draco knew, if he just knew how _right_ he looked in Harry's arms, he might not dismiss this so quickly; he might let Harry and Hermione care about him.

The kiss broke and suddenly she stopped floating as if in a dream and felt the weight of the world fall over her with a deafening crash. They both looked at her, panting and waiting but far less broken than before.

And Hermione didn't know what to do. She wasn't impulsive and reckless like Harry, that's why he had been the one to throw himself into the situation, risking rejection, insults, or worse just to show Draco that he and Hermione getting together wasn't the only good thing he'd ever done.

"You. _You_ are a good thing," she breathed right before kissing Draco, feeling the same reconstructive force inside of her that she was sure they had experienced just moments before.

Draco's hands had still been closed around Harry's t-shirt when she reached up to him, but upon feeling her lips on him, Draco let go of Harry with one of his hands and wrapped one arm around Hermione, opening his body more towards her but still holding onto Harry, keeping him close. Hermione cupped Draco's face with one hand as she felt Harry thread his fingers with hers on the other, and it felt as though every cell in her body sighed contently.

She wasn't sure how long they kissed for, as right then she could only measure time in heart palpitations or soft, warm pulls on her bottom lip. Harry's energy seemed to have poured into Draco, who was more responsive than she would have thought and this, _this_ is what she had wanted and needed so desperately that it almost felt impossible that she was getting it.

And then just like that, with a merciless cruelty that made her believe that some powerful and ironic evil being was watching over her; it was over.

Draco let go of them both and took several steps back, hitting his back against the refrigerator. He didn't look shocked at his actions and he didn't stare at them with hatred or blame.

Mostly, he looked like he hated himself and maybe that was even worse.

"How could this ever work?" he wondered out loud, shaking his head and then rubbing his eyes as if he was trying to wake up. "It doesn't feel possible or real. It feels like I'm in a nightmare."

"Don't you mean a dream?" Hermione asked carefully as she untangled her fingers from Harry's and took a step forward, thinking that Draco's nightmares had to be a lot worse than this.

Draco dropped his hands and looked at her as if this was the first time he heard the word 'dream' before. "I don't think I ever have those anymore."

Weirdly, Hermione understood, and she knew that Harry did as well.

"Well," she said tentatively, just wanting Draco to feel better. "What do you do when you have nightmares?"

He didn't answer and started looking even more miserable than before. Hermione bit her lip hard in self punishment; she should have kept her mouth shut.

"I know what I've always wanted to do," Harry uttered into the silence, making Draco and Hermione look at him. He had stuffed his hands in his pockets, and for a moment he looked older and severe, as if thinking about his nightmares had aged him significantly. "Run out of the house straight into the water and go as deep as possible. Even before coming here I had always thought about doing it and I've never…" he stopped, closing his eyes and letting out an unexpected broken sob that made Hermione's heart tremble. "I always get scared that it means that some part of me wants me to harm myself and that if I don't stop it I'll let myself..."

Harry didn't have to finish the sentence for his meaning to be clear.

 _I'll let myself drown._

Hermione felt something strange and electric surging through her, as if Harry's words carried magic in them; because he had unknowingly described exactly the same desire she always had when experiencing a nightmare. She had ran out of the house multiple times, but she always stopped right before the sea, deeply afraid and feeling crumbled inside.

Harry's confession didn't just have an effect on her, though. There was a choked gasp and when she looked round at Draco, she saw in his eyes that he was sensing the same type of eerie energy coming out from Harry. There was subtle understanding between them that lit the flicker of hope inside Hermione, the one that had been blown out and lit back up so many times during the last few hours.

She and Draco turned to Harry, who had removed his glasses in order to dry out his eyes.

"Let's do it."


	18. Sea

**Chapter 18 - Sea**

Draco's legs were burning and they were barely out of the house yet. Sleep deprivation, alcohol, and emotional exhaustion were already taking a hard toll on him and then he was suddenly begging his body to move at full speed, arms pumping at his sides and heart racing just to catch up.

As soon as the words had left Grang- _Hermione's_ lips, the three of them started running as fast as they could. She had banged her hip into the chair as they left the kitchen but she carried on, strong and determined in front of Draco. Harry missed a step just as they crossed the front door, but he picked himself up immediately and caught up, resilient and eager right behind Draco.

Draco hadn't fallen yet, but he was sure he would go down at any moment. He didn't care, though, right now every thought, every muscle, every intention and need that he could possibly have were all focused on the same goal, and he didn't think anything could stop him now. Never had he felt so coherent and harmoniuous in his entire life; no doubts or contradictions of any kind, only pure, unadulterated certainty.

He watched Hermione's feet make the first contact with the water and he felt a surge of energy wash over him, prompting him to run even faster now.

The first splash of water on his face was something of a shock. After that, his body embraced everything about this moment; the coldness against his hot skin, the weight of his clothes and shoes, the salt in his mouth, the sting of his eyes. But most importantly, the calmness of his mind.

He heard Harry collide with the waves a moment after he did, and Draco let himself smile for a moment before diving under the water and trying to swim as hard as he could against the current wanting to take him back to the shore. He moved his arms back and forth and kicked fast with his legs, not really sure of what he was doing as he had never swam much in his life, but now it felt natural, as though he should have been doing it all along. And he really should have.

He emerged to the surface and took a deep breath that made his lungs feel fuller than they had in forever, and then he tried to locate Harry and Hermione. The water all around him was agitated and full of tiny white bubbles, but he couldn't see their faces, so he guessed they must be under the water. He dived again and swam even further, holding his breath until the very last second and coming back up to inhale greedily and shamelessly as if he had never allowed himself to do so.

Hermione's head was floating just above the water, her hair moving in waves around her as she smiled brightly.

Harry came up then, eyes shining greener than ever thanks to the reflection of the sea.

"Your glasses!" Hermione pointed to Harry who only shrugged. Draco hadn't even noticed that he wasn't wearing them any more.

"Let's go further in," Harry said and immediately went under again, swimming in between Draco and Hermione and advancing into the open ocean.

They followed him, each wrapped up in their own minds as they continued to make their way through the deep vastness all around them. Draco dared to open his eyes under the water a couple of times, catching blurry and colorful glances of Harry and Hermione before his eyes began to hurt too much.

Underwater everything was turned down; sounds, light, movement, and even his feelings felt blissfully swallowed and pushed the very depths, where Draco could experience them without being overwhelmed. He dragged his fingers across the sand at the bottom before pushing himself upwards.

He didn't know how long he swam for, but he must have gone up for air and under again about twenty times before he decided to stop and check that he hadn't strayed too far from Hermione and Harry. Harry was to his far right, about twenty feet away from Draco and looking up at the sun. Hermione had gone much further, her back to him as she floated a long distance away, closer to the horizon.

It was peace as Draco had never seen it before. He had seen both Harry and Hermione in various states during the years; happy, sad, boiling with anger or beaming with joy; but he was certain he had never seen them so at peace ever in his life. It was logical of course, there had always been something that perturbed that calmness and Draco knew that he used to be part of that 'something'. But now, nothing stood in their way except an infinite amount of deep blue; water and sky combined.

With the bottom of the sea so far beneath him, Draco has to keep moving his arms and legs to stay afloat, but it was worth it if he could keep looking at the way the sun moved above them, slowly making its way to the skyline and reminding Draco that there would be another days; with sunsets and sunrises and everything in between.

From the corner of his eye he noticed that Harry had dived back down under the surface, and a few seconds later so did Hermione. In their sudden absence, it was as if Draco was the only person in the world. And he thought that feeling alone in the middle of the ocean would be one of his worst fears come to life, but that was because he had been sure that if he was ever in that situation it would be because he put himself there. A chill ran down Draco's spine at the prospect that the idea had ever crossed his mind once.

But now? He had never been less afraid in his life.

And he was sure Hermione and Harry shared that feeling, because they too were out there on their own, submerging themselves in the freedom of knowing that no matter what happened, they would never let each other drown.

.

Somehow the forthcoming darkness announced by the sunset in front of Harry didn't diminish the serenity of the situation, as it usually happened to Harry when it came to nights. This time though, he was prepared to welcome it with open arms.

He just wished he could appreciate the sunset better, but his lack of glasses and salt in his eyes were not helping at all. He rubbed them again and then tried to look at his own palms, that felt slightly numb and pruny, but everything was blurry to him. He knew he should have been getting tired of this; after all it had been at least two hours since they ran out of the house, and his entire body felt heavy and sore in places he couldn't pinpoint, but his head was as clear and active as ever.

Harry watched in blissful silence as the colors and shapes in front of him mixed and intensified, dark orange and pink with streaks of white all reflecting into the water and making Harry wonder if the line that separated them had disappeared.

When it all finally went dark, Harry sighed and leaned back, letting himself float and look at the navy sky and some barely bright spots that Harry guessed were stars.

He hadn't heard or seen Hermione or Draco in a while, and he realized he rather missed them. He knew they were out there, enjoying this moment as much as he was, but he felt the sudden need of being close to them again. The memories of the very recent kiss he shared with Draco flooded his brain, as well as the image of Draco and Hermione doing the same.

Harry righted himself and looked around, immediately locating a head of white blond hair in the distance. It took him a bit more time to find Hermione, since her usually bushy hair was wet and dark, camouflaging itself in the darkness. He smiled at what he could see of them, not even sure if it was their fronts of backs, but knowing it was them nonetheless. Harry knew that as soon as one of them wanted to leave, they would all leave, but he was hesitant to be the first one to make a move in case they felt like staying for longer.

A rather strong breeze swept over him, making him very aware of his wetness, and Harry realize he was rather cold. Taking a deep breath, he started swimming, above the water this time, towards Draco and Hermione.

When he was close enough for Hermione to hear him, he stopped and slowly opened his mouth, only to close it back again. Simply the feeling of separating his lips from each other felt strange, as if he was speaking for the first time in years. He touched a wrinkled finger to his lips and then swept his tongue alongside them, tasting salt and fresh air. He cleared his throat.

"Hey," he spoke into the night, his voice too loud for his ears but too quiet for the sea.

But still, Hermione heard him and turned around, looking slightly surprised. "Hey," she replied and smiled a little. Harry felt so glad to be close to her again.

Harry said nothing more, but he didn't need to. He and Hermione started swimming towards Draco, who was a little closer to the shore and looking up at the stars.

He heard them approaching and lowered his head to look at them, a serene expression on his face that was very foreign to Harry, but very welcome as well. "Hey," he said as well, his voice smooth and pleasant, and for some reason Harry's heart did a somersault.

The three of them started swimming back to the shore, no words spoken between them. They had gone a long way into the depths, so their journey back took some time and strength that didn't realize he had in him. At the end he simply wanted to lie back and let the waves carry him until one crashed at the shore with him, but that would probably be worse for his aching limbs.

Finally touching solid, dry land was both a relief and a bit of a disappointment. In the water everything was easy and effortless, and it wasn't just about his body; his thoughts and emotions felt lighter when carried by the soothing rocking of the tide too. Everything that happened in the past twenty four hours came back to him and Harry felt so _heavy_. He was glad by final turn of events of course, but heavy nonetheless.

They walked aimlessly for a while, simple dragging themselves away from the sea, but when they were far enough, their steps slowed down until the three of them stopped, not knowing where to go next. Would Draco want to go to his place by himself? Should Harry and Hermione invite him to theirs? Would he expect them to?

They looked at each other with questioning but uncomfortable smiles, the three of them shivering in the light breeze.

"D-do any of you got your wand?" Hermione stuttered, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

Draco and Harry shook their heads and then it seemed to dawn on the three of them the amount of carelessness and vulnerability that they were showing by coming out here without their wands. Draco's and Hermione's eyes were wide and Harry wanted to keep this moment in his memory forever; the moment they all realized they trusted each other.

Although some of the awkwardness seemed to have lifted, they still had no idea what to do, so they remained in the sand a bit longer, glancing at each other and then around themselves.

"The meteor shower starts at midnight."

Harry and Hermione looked at Draco, whose words seemed to warm them up from the inside. They smiled.

The walk back to Draco's was silent and slow as sand was clinging to every part of their wet bodies, particularly their feet and legs, and making them feel even heavier.

They finally arrived at the front door and Harry and Hermione automatically each took a hold of Draco's arms to go through, and then they all froze up. Their hands on Draco's arm was the most contact that'd had since Harry and Hermione kissed Draco, because being out there in the ocean had been individual experiences and now this innocent touch had renewed, at least in Harry's mind, the thought about the three of them.

But strangely, it also felt like coming home.

They walked inside rather awkwardly, and once they were pass the threshold Harry and Hermione stepped away from Draco.

"I feel like the beach," Harry said once they were inside, mostly thinking out loud and trying to break the ice.

Draco and Hermione looked at him curiously.

"I mean…" Harry wasn't sure what he meant, but he had been thinking about how they soaked in the sea for so long that he felt as though part of it would never leave him. There was sand and water and salt all over him, maybe inside him too, and for a moment it was as though he identified himself with what was out there, even with the crash and confusion of the waves. "All the seawater and sand…"

Mentally congratulating himself for the way he so successfully expressed his ideas, he snorted and shook his head. Sand fell from his hair.

But somehow, they seemed to know what he was talking about, because Draco smiled and Hermione took Harry's hand. He looked down at her, and he even through the slight blurriness he could see her wild curls tangled with sand and seaweed, and a blush in her face form all the sun they received without really noticing. There was something in the familiar fondness in which she looked at Harry that temporarily blocked his brain, and Harry leaned in and kissed her without a second thought.

Hermione's lips tasted exactly like his thoughts about the beach, and like he was certain he and Draco would also taste. They were all part of that beach now.

She reached up to tangle her fingers in his hair and Harry pulled her closer, seeking any warmth that her body may offer as they both shivered.

A hot rush of wind startled Hermione and Harry, who broke apart and looked around to see Draco standing a short distance away, his eyes wide and cheeks red, pointing his wand at them.

"Sorry," he muttered and swallowed. "You looked cold."

Harry had been so used to kissing Hermione that he momentarily forgot that this was the first time that Draco would see them do it. And the first thing he did was try to warm them up.

Harry's heart soared.

Hermione cleared her throat, a small smile playing at her lips. "Um, can we shower here?"

"There's like four bathrooms, what do you think?" Draco pointed at one and then showed Harry to another, still looking slightly flushed.

Despite the fact that feeling 'like the beach' had been an interesting experience, Harry couldn't wait to take a hot shower and get into dry and clean clothes. He just hoped that while he was at it, he could avoid the mental image of Draco and Hermione who were both doing the same thing.


	19. Dusk

**Chapter Nineteen - Dusk**

When Hermione stepped out of the bathroom wearing her magically dried and scourgified dress, Draco was already out of the shower, looking calm and clean in a green jumper and black trousers. He was sitting in an armchair and looked up at her. His nose wrinkled.

"What are you wearing?" he asked as if it was unheard of.

Hermione looked down at herself. "These are the only clothes I have. Did you expect me to walk out of there with nothing on?"

She hadn't meant to make her statement sexual at all, but once it was out, it was hard not to see it that way. Draco's eyes widened slightly and then he huffed.

"Of course not," he stammered and held up something that Hermione hadn't noticed was resting on his lap. It was a large, blue button down shirt. "I don't have dresses, but I'm guessing it'll fit you like one. And you can save your wand in the pocket it already has."

Hermione chuckled and took the garment in her hands. "Thank you." She looked down at Draco, who wasn't smiling but seemed amused, and they merely stared at each other for a second too long before the sound of steps made Hermione look over her shoulder.

Harry had finished showering as well, and Hermione did a double take before turning around completely to face him. He was wearing black trousers and a matching black jumper. It had been ages since Hermione had seen Harry wear anything but shorts and t-shirts. "You look…" she trailed off trying to find the right words. "Like Draco."

"Thanks?" Harry said, not sounding completely sure as to whether that was a good thing or not.

Draco got to his feet. "That's a compliment, clearly."

It actually was. Hermione liked the way Harry usually looked, but seeing him wear Draco's clothes made Hermione feel warm inside, and she was sure Harry would agree once he saw her wear the button down she had in her hands. She held it up. "I'm about to look like Draco too," she announced and went back into the bathroom to change.

"And here I thought one Draco was more than enough," she heard Harry say from the other side of the door.

"You're right," Draco replied. "It's already more than you can handle."

Hermione smiled and for some reason pictured Harry and Draco being face to face as they said this, even though they were nowhere near each other when she left the room. Her heart raced.

There was absolute silence and Hermione couldn't help but let her imagination take over. Had they walked up to each other? Where they staring intensely into each other's eyes? Had they begun kissing already? She felt as though she could feel the electric energy between them even though she wasn't even watching what was happening.

She hung her dress next to the towel she had used and walked out. She tried to push her disappointment aside when she saw Draco and Harry were walking into the kitchen and definitely _not_ kissing.

They made dinner with the leftovers that Harry had prepared days before, and it was a mostly silent affair as they were all ravenous after such exhausting events. Hermione could hardly believe it had all he happened less than forty eight hours ago.

"So…" Draco spoke when the plates were empty but the silence was still heavy. "What now?"

By his voice Hermione could tell that he wasn't talking about what they should have for dessert. Harry looked at Draco with worry etched on his face.

"What do you mean?"

Draco sighed and leaned forward on his chair. He suddenly looked much older, no longer looking like a kid who was haunted by his past or terrified of his present situation. Draco was thinking about the future.

"I mean…" he shook his head thoughtfully and folded his hands in front of him as if they were at a business meeting. "How is this going to work? How do we... _How_?"

Harry bit his lip and looked at Hermione for answers, and Hermione thought of all the times he'd done that.

"We don't really know," she admitted with a grimace. "I wish I could tell you that I've written a detailed plan on how to execute the technical aspects of...whatever this is."

"She really means that," Harry interjected. "She loves plans."

"Obviously." Draco's mouth twitched.

"But," she continued, trying to ignore the way her heart raced again. "I don't have one, and I don't think we should write it even if we could."

Draco didn't look very convinced with this answer, and he looked from Harry to Hermione and back, apparently struggling to find words. "I just have no idea what to do." Hermione could tell this was very hard for him to confess, but he was doing it nonetheless and that's what mattered to her. "You two have already...and I haven't-" he shook his head with his eyes closed, clearly frustrated. "Fuck it! What do you want to do?"

Hermione considered him, feeling dismayed. She had hoped- irrationally, she knew- that it'd all be smooth sailing from now on. But seeing as none of them knew what they were doing and had been simply acting on raw feelings alone, that seemed foolishly impossible.

"Well, I kind of want to get my spare glasses," Harry said as he squinted at them, his green eyes looking weary. "Because it'd be nice to see your faces before I kiss you."

Hermione could actually feel the heat surging through her body and coming to a stop at her face, and from the corner of her eye she noticed Draco's pale face flushing red too. She thought- and hoped- that this would not be the last time that Harry managed to fluster the two of them at the same time.

Draco got to his feet in a rush, his chair scrapping on the floor. "We can summon them from the roof," he declared stiffly, his body looking tense but his colorful cheeks betraying him.

Harry smiled in a way that was _almost_ smug and even though she knew he'd deny it, Hermione could tell that Harry considered it a victory to make Draco blush.

The roof of the Malfoy's summer house was quite literally made for star-gazing. Hermione guessed there had been some sort of enchantment placed around it, because even though there were lights fixed on the corners so you could see what you were doing in the space, the night sky looked as inky black and clear as Hermione had ever seen it. The center of the roof was lined with a thick black carpet with cushions on top, all surrounding the giant telescope that looked definitely ancient, but as if it once was the best and most luxurious thing that money could buy.

Hermione gazed around in amazement, her mouth hanging open as she examined the old telescope. "This is brilliant," she whispered, placing her palm flat on cool metal. "Do you know how to use it?"

Draco hummed his agreement and admired the artifact too. "I must have come here dozens of times when I was little." He turned his head towards Harry, who stood near the edge looking over in the direction of their cottage and raised his wand. "Wait!" Draco called to him. "Don't do it. I'll summon them for you."

Draco walked over to Harry, who looked puzzled.

"You can barely see, they're just going to smack you in the face," Draco explained as he raised his own wand. "Accio Harry's glasses!"

For a moment all was quiet, and then Hermione could see something small moving in the glasses were zooming rapidly towards them and the next second Draco caught them swiftly in his outstretched hand. He handed them to Harry who smiled appreciatively. As soon as he did, though, a second swooshing noise grew louder and louder, and they all turned around just in time to see a second pair of glasses smacking Draco hard in the face.

"Fuck!" he swore loudly and stumbled back into Harry.

Harry steadied Draco before bending to pick up the wet, battered pair of glasses. "The ones I lost in the ocean!" Harry beamed, and Draco gave him a dirty luck. "Thanks."

Hermione couldn't help a giggle that made Draco turn to her with his eyes narrowed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I could have been blinded, I hope you know."

"Ironic," replied Hermione as she walked up to them.

Harry stuffed the damaged glasses into his pocket and put the other pair on. He put his hand under Draco's chin mad made him face him, so he could examined Draco's face, which had a red mark along his nose and cheek. "You'll be alright," Harry told him as he trailed a finger down Draco's cheek. Draco seemed to calm down significantly thanks to this action, and he didn't even answer Harry, even though Hermione had expected him to make an even bigger drama about his 'injury'.

The moment between Harry and Draco was so strangely tender that Hermione's insides seemed to melt, and she thought that any second now Harry would lean into Draco and kiss him, because she recognized that look in his green eyes, having blissfully experienced it herself.

But she was just as shocked as Harry when a second later Draco shoved Harry's hand away from his face and grabbed him by the collar of his jumper, which was technically Draco's, and kissed him. Draco had never initiated a kiss with them, and Hermione could practically hear the fireworks going off in her head. There was no hesitation whatsoever from him as he pulled Harry close and snogged the life out of him. It took Harry a second to respond, and Hermione was on the verge of telling him to stop being a fool and touch Draco, for Merlin's sake.

She wondered if yelling instructions at them would ruin or improve the mood.

Fortunately, Harry's arms finally moved and his hands came to rest at the back of Draco's head. He was letting Draco take control of the kiss and it filled Hermione with longing. She wanted to experience all the possible combinations of the three of them initiating a kiss, and she wanted to wrap herself in and around them, exploring all the wonderful ways in which they could be together, the possibilities stretching and coiling in her mind in an infinite loop that she hoped to one day live and repeat and repeat and repeat…

Draco clutched Harry like a vice, his hands taking fistfuls of fabric up and down Harry's chest while Harry tried to catch up and Hermione tried to breathe properly.

As soon as she thought that she could stare at them forever, they broke apart slightly, catching their breaths and looking into each other's eyes. The intensity of the moment seemed to radiate off them and Hermione basked in it, feeling as close to them as if she had participated in the kiss too. It made her realize the true nature of her feelings for them; all doubt that this could be in any way only a temporary, physical attraction went right out the window and Hermione felt it get buried beneath the sand. She was truly, deeply connected to their emotions and felt their happiness as her own, even if she wasn't the cause of it.

Her soul seemed to sigh in contentment.

"Can't believe I've been injured because of you _again_ ," Draco whispered dramatically, as if he hadn't just been attached to Harry's mouth.

"Again?" Harry replied with indignation. "It has always been your own fault except for the Sectumsempra incident."

The two of them were still very much clinging to each other as if they might fall if they let go, which made it all the harder to believe that they were arguing.

"Have you lost your mind? You're a death trap Harry Potter. I can't believe I like you."

Harry smirked. "I can't believe I like you."

"I can't believe I like you."

The words had slipped from Hermione's mouth without a second thought, and she almost regretted ruining their moment but then they turned to look at her with amused smiles and she knew it had been worth it. Draco unclutched the front of Harry's clothes with one hand and offered it to Hermione, who took it and stepped even closer to them.

Draco looked from her to Harry and even in the relatively low light Hermione could see a blush creeping up his face. He seemed to be struggling to find the right words to say something, and his previous cocky demeanor was almost completely gone.

"Can I- can I see you two kiss again?" His voice was barely audible over the sounds of the waves. "I need to make sure this is real."

Hermione squeezed his hand in a feeble attempt to prove to him that it was, but truthfully she too felt as if she was dreaming. She turned to look at Harry, who was simply radiating happiness and her chest tightened. In a haze, she leaned in to kiss him, feeling the dream around her become slightly more tangible as Harry's lips, that had just been thoroughly snogged by Draco, came into contact with hers. His hand found her face and cupped it, drawing circles in her cheek and making goosebumps erupt all over her skin.

Draco was stiff and quiet next to her, but when Harry slipped his tongue into Hermione's mouth, Draco inhaled sharply, making Hermione feel a scorching heat surging through her.

It was almost as if she was kissing Harry for the first time, the excitement and nerves bouncing around inside her as she tried to keep her head on, but it was so difficult when her body was telling her to seek more of whatever this was.

And with Draco so close to her, she was certain she'd go into overdrive pretty soon.

Harry's hand dropped from her face and took a hold of her own hand, which had been resting over his heart. He slowly removed it and directed it over another, equally fast beating heart. Draco made another sharp breathing noise when he realized that Harry was stirring Hermione towards him, and with a final, torturously slow swipe of his tongue over Hermione's bottom lip, Harry pulled away and she knew she was facing Draco now; his breath only slightly different, his cold fingers gripping hers even more tightly. Harry moved away from them for a second and seemed to struggle with Draco's other hand, which was probably still curled around the fabric of Harry's jumper, but apparently he let go because Harry was suddenly behind her and carefully pushing Hermione's hair away from her right shoulder.

Hermione had thought that when this finally happened- if it ever did- it'd feel… different. Weird, complicated, or perhaps even _wrong._ She had felt a subtle guilt every time she had admitted to herself of fantasizing about it, because surely being with two people at once wasn't right, was it? She had never seen, heard, or even read about such things in her life, so it was clearly not common either in the muggle or magical world.

But she was definitely feeling it, it was real and solid in front of her and in spite of her previous guilt, she could find nothing wrong with it. What could possibly be wrong about tasting Harry on Draco's lips? How could being pressed up between them with their hearts beating against her chest and back, be bad? And more importantly, why had it taken them such a long time to realize how right this was?

Harry kissed down on the place where her shoulder met her neck, and she wished she was wearing one of her dresses and not Draco's button-down, which covered a lot more skin that could have been in direct contact with Harry's lips. Nevertheless, she shivered at the sensation and her mind started reeling with possibilities.

How far would they go tonight?

Draco let go of her hand and instead placed both of his at her hips, steadying her in a way that didn't seem possible with so many things happening at once. Hermione took this moment of free choice with her hands to reach for Draco's hair with one as she started stroking Harry's with the other, her best friend's head still buried in the crook of her neck.

She enjoyed having both of them at the tip of her fingers, feeling their movements, hair texture, warmth, and having them at her mercy- or being at their mercy, she wasn't really sure.

There was a slight pressure at her chest, more than before, and with unexpected surprise she realized that Draco was pushing them back, soft but firmly.

Hermione's heart seemed to drop to her feet in nervous anticipation, but she immediately complied and transferred the same pressure back towards Harry, who took a slow step back before she did. She stumbled slightly over his foot and his hands flew down to her hips to steady her, and they met Draco's. She felt Harry raise his head and she was sure she was watching them kiss. He took another step back and they followed.

Soon, Hermione's feet touched on soft carpet and her pulse seemed to quicken even more at the implication, but she continued to let Harry guide her until the three of them were standing in the middle of the roof, next to the telescope.

Since Draco had been the one to make the move, she and Harry stood waiting, still kissing and touching each other, but Hermione knew they had the same intention of letting Draco set the pace.

The kiss started slowing down carefully turning into a collection of nips and pecks that had Hermione feeling dizzy and a bit confused. Draco was stopping, his hands were no longer gripping her tightly and he wasn't as pressed up against her as before. She had thought he wanted more, and she started worrying that this meant he was having second thoughts about them.

As soon as she opened her eyes, she knew she had been right. Draco's grey irises were darkened by want, but there was also clear confusion. Hermione slid her hand slowly from the back of his head to his cheek in what she hoped was a comforting way.

Draco looked at Harry, his eyes trailing over Hermione's face and stopping above her head. She didn't know how Harry was looking at Draco, but she could imagine his green eyes trying to convey his feelings to him. Draco closed his eyes then and took a deep breath. Hermione felt something moving and tickling at her hips, and she looked down to see that Harry's and Draco's fingers had laced together.

When she looked up again Draco's eyes were open and he was staring at her with the smallest smile before he shifted his head slightly, catching Hermione's palm that was on his cheek, with his lips. Hermione let out a small gasp as Draco kissed down her hand to her wrist, where he could surely feel her pulse, and Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She rose on her tiptoes and captured Draco's mouth, kissing him as hungrily and desperately as she allowed herself to be.

She was vaguely aware that they were all moving again, but it took her a few disconcerting seconds to realize that they were lowering towards the ground. Harry's and Draco's joined hands pushed her down and they went with her, until the three of them were kneeling on the carpet. The mess of hands around her (How many were they? Two? Four? It felt like a dozen) untangled and two arms wrapped around her middle and started pulling her back until she was resting against Harry, who had sat back on his heels.

The second she pressed her backside against Harry's lap, she let out an involuntary noise that was half moan and half yelp, because Harry was _hard_ and somehow she hadn't expected it. She had always been face to face with Harry the times they'd been together, so the feeling was new but completely welcome, and she wondered what it'd be like to feel Draco as well. With all her feelings and thoughts combined, she was starting to get overwhelmed, so she broke the kiss and started trailing down Draco's neck, focusing on the way his skin felt, tasted, and smelled as her hands held onto his shoulders. Draco dropped his head to the side, exposing his neck for her while reaching for Harry, and they started kissing over Hermione's shoulder.

The feeling of being in a dream increased again as Draco's hands landed on her thighs, almost completely exposed thanks to the shirt sliding up in her current position. Harry's arms were still around her, and he and Draco were getting so close that Hermione started feeling a little trapped and didn't know what to do. She continued to kiss Draco's neck and shoulder for a while longer, but then their combined pressure on her was too much and she couldn't breathe properly. She imagined Harry was so caught up in the moment that he didn't realize how tight he was holding her, so she placed her hands over his forearms and tried to pull them away carefully .

There was a soft, wet smack. "Sorry," Harry whispered right next to her ear and let her go completely.

Draco pulled back too. "We were smothering you," he stated, his lips red and swollen and his hair disheveled.

"It's okay." She waved a hand dismissively, but was glad to be able to take a deep breath. "Go on, continue," she told them as she moved away from Harry and indicated between the two of them.

Harry chuckled, but it was Draco who spoke, "So bossy. I can't believe I like you."

Harry took both Draco and Hermione by surprise by basically launching himself over Draco, pushing him back against one of the big cushions and crashing their lips together. Draco made a soft whimpering noise but his hands latched onto Harry's messy hair in determination and their legs tangled together so perfectly that Hermione just wanted to keep the image of them two of them like this forever in her mind.

She would have been perfectly content just watching, but she knew she wouldn't last long without wanting to touch them again. So she took another deep breath and tried to immortalize all the details of the picture in front of her; Harry's passionate impulsiveness and Draco's eager compliance, the way Harry's glasses were sliding down into Draco's face, the rush of air leaving and entering their lungs, the melodic rhythm of hands gripping, stroking, scraping, _wanting._

And most of all, she admired the unlikeability of this moment, how absurd and inconvenient that they had all found each other, but also how unavoidable it had been.


	20. Sunset

**Chapter Twenty - Sunset**

Draco pulled Harry closer, _closer_ , but there was no more room for him to go, nowhere in Draco's body where he could stick Harry to his skin and have him there forever, so Draco did the next best thing and opened his legs to let Harry settle himself between them. Immediately they moaned together in a way that Draco had _never_ done, and much less along with another person. Their hardness were pressed together, painfully undeniable in between them and making Draco's entire body burn with need.

As soon as the embarrassing sound escaped them Hermione rushed next to them, and her hand seemed to be trembling as it trailed down the side of Draco's face and neck. He couldn't blame her, he was barely in control of himself as Harry continued to kiss him so deeply and intensely that his mind was dangerously close to shutting off, but he couldn't let it, he had to force himself to think. He couldn't let himself be overcome by emotions and end up at a point where there was no turning back.

Because he had never even kissed someone for more than three seconds before Hermione and Harry came along. There was never a time or a place where he could have learned what it was like to be with someone and now he was in the perfect time and place with the perfect _two_ people and he knew… nothing.

He wasn't even sure if he was an adequate kisser, yet here he was, rubbing up his erection against another man, and not just any man.

Draco attempted to slow down the kiss and Harry accepted it, his fingers that had been clutching Draco's hair suddenly loosened and his hands slid down to Draco's hips. Draco tensed up, the feeling both intimidating and delightful. But he didn't have much time to dwell on it, because Harry pulled back slightly, stopping the kiss and tightening his grip. Draco opened his eyes, looking at Harry's breathless face and the next thing he knew, they were rolling over to the side and he was on top of Harry.

They both panted for a moment, their chests rising and falling together as the tightness in their trousers continued to rub together maddeningly.

Draco understood what Harry was trying to do and appreciated it, because maybe he'd be able to figure out what he was supposed to do by having a little more control, but at the same time he felt the weighty pressure of having to decide instead of letting Harry take the lead. After all, Harry had at least _some_ experience that Draco didn't.

Draco turned his head to the side and looked at Hermione, who was half leaning on another cushion. She reached for him, her finger stopping at his mouth and touching his bottom lip softly. He wanted to kiss her, wanted to see her and Harry again, wanted to be pressed between them and let them show him what to do. Hermione was smart and eloquent, she would probably be able to tell him what he ought to do.

Harry's hands had left Draco's hips and were now settling at his back. The shift reminded Draco of the ridiculously intoxicating friction going on between them and for a moment he wished Harry's hands would go lower and lower and grab his ass unabashedly.

But he knew Harry wouldn't, not without a clear sign that Draco wanted to go further, but Draco wasn't sure how to take that step. What would come after that? He barely knew what he was ought to do with Hermione, and weren't blokes supposed to be more complicated?

"I…" the word escaped him suddenly, Hermione's finger still touching his lip before she retreated, looking curiously at him. Draco didn't know how to continue, and he looked down at Harry who was also waiting expectantly. "I don't… I have never…"

"We know," Hermione said softly and caressed his hair.

"That's alright," Harry assured him. "We don't have to." He started running circles on Draco's back.

Unfortunately for Draco, even the smallest movement between them made him ache with pleasure and he closed his eyes as he inhaled sharply through his teeth.

"Sorry," Harry gasped from under him and Draco opened his eyes again, trying desperately to ignore the intense feeling while still not being ready to part from it.

Draco looked at Hermione again, who was biting her bottom lip and looking tense, her hands balled into tight fists on her lap. "I-I want to," Draco admitted, feeling heat rush to his face as he looked back at Harry. "I just don't know what to do."

"Hey," Harry whispered and reach a hand to cup Draco's face. "I don't know either. I mean, I've never done _this_." He emphasized by rocking his hips just an inch, making Draco curse as he pulled Harry's hair.

Harry smirked and Draco glared at him, wanting both to kiss and insult him.

"And it doesn't have to be today, but we can figure it out together," Harry assured him.

"God, _yes_."

They both turned to look at Hermione, who was red all over and looked mortified at having said that out loud.

Instantly Draco felt Harry get even harder, and he looked down breathlessly at him as he pinned Hermione with a hungry look. This was akin to torture.

Draco pulled Harry's hair again and Harry grimaced and looked at him.

"So," Draco managed through the haze of desire fogging his mind. "What do you want to do?"

Even though he was looking at Harry, Draco reached out one hand that landed on Hermione's thigh and his heart sped up even more. Harry followed the action with his eyes and he seemed to be sharing a look with Hermione.

"We want to make you happy," Harry said, returning his eyes to Draco.

Draco froze. He wasn't expecting an answer like that.

In the silence, he turned to look at Hermione again. One of the lights was shining in the corner beyond her and it made a halo around her wild mane of hair, making her look even more unreal, if possible. She was smiling and covered Draco's hand on her thigh with her own.

"Do you trust us?"

Draco heard the words from her as if from a room far away from him, muffled and strange to his ears. Because of course, of course he trusted them. Even way before any of this, even when they were enemies, even when he thought he didn't, and he couldn't understand why she would even ask that. That wasn't the real question.

Draco nodded. "Do you trust me?"

He realized how small and careful his voice sounded and he knew, painfully and bitterly, that he was deadly afraid of their answer.

Hermione's smile faltered and Draco thought he saw her eyes water before he turned away. He couldn't watch her cry, or he would too.

Harry looked shocked and he held Draco's face with even more purpose. "Can't you tell by now?"

"Yes," Hermione said firmly, and she wasn't crying.

 _Yes yes yes._

But _why?_ Something inside him asked. Draco pushed it aside.

Harry started sitting up, forcing Draco to kneel back, and the usually warm air around him felt suddenly very cold to him.

Hermione was next to Harry in a second, and together they pushed Draco back to rest on another cushion, their hands over his chest. He complied and leaned back until his head touched the soft fabric.

Towering over him, Harry and Hermione were like an amortentia-induced vision that Draco could hardly believe was real. He thought inexplicably of a desert, and the hallucinations people experience when they've gone a long time without water. Maybe that's what had happened to him; he was dehydrated, desperately _seeking,_ and this is what his mind had produced to comfort him after too much sleeping potion.

Or maybe his mouth was dry for a completely different reason and this was real. Maybe he had found a real-life oasis. Maybe he could allow himself to drink.

They leaned down at the same time, Hermione going for his lips while Harry started a trail of kisses along his collarbone. Draco closed his eyes blissfully and let his hands roam free over every part of them he could touch. He felt no nerves when someone began pulling up his jumper or when a hand settled on his naked chest, and he himself was grabbing fistful of clothing in an attempt to get to the hot skin underneath.

Hermione slowly left his mouth and crawled down his body. Draco opened his heavy eyelids and saw the way she and Harry met over Draco's chest and started kissing there where Harry had managed to pull up Draco's jumper almost entirely. Draco reached down and finished the job, throwing the item over his head as he saw Hermione biting on Harry's lip. He shivered involuntarily.

Hermione was tugging at the hem of Harry's jumper and then he immediately pulled it off, showing more glorious skin that Draco ached to touch.

He saw Hermione's fingers struggling with the buttons of her shirt and he propped himself up a little to help, carefully undoing each button while she and Harry continued kissing. When he was done, he held his breath as Hermione shrugged off the shirt that was his, and it looked so mesmerizing sliding off her smooth shoulders and revealing her completely naked torso. Draco hadn't been expecting it, so he stared with his mouth hanging open and nearly choked when Harry reached and gently cupped one of her breasts.

Draco wanted to do the same, but he didn't want to presume he was invited to do something just because Harry had done it too.

"Is not fair."

Draco looked up, startled at Hermione's words, and he realized he had still been staring down, caught up in his own thoughts.

She was blushed with a nervous smile playing at her lips.

"What's not fair?" Harry asked, seeming just as confused as Draco.

"I have significantly less clothing items than you two," she said in a low voice, dropping her hand to Draco's hip and hooking two fingers on the belt loops of his trousers.

Why had he even wore a belt?

Harry quite literally growled as he pulled Hermione back to kiss her, but his hands started working on Draco's belt. Draco was about to do the same with Harry's trousers, but Hermione caught his wrist. Her eyes were the tiniest bit open when he looked up, but then she closed them again and blindly led Draco's hand up to her chest. Draco didn't know it was possible to get even harder.

He sat up even more to lean into Hermione's neck, feeling as though her skin might burn his lips. He trailed kisses up to her chin, and then with unmatched thrill he continued onto Harry's chin, brushing his lips against the place where they touched and then feeling the light stubble prickling his face.

He heard a zipper going down and his heart skipped a beat. He pulled away to look down, but was confused to see that Harry had not yet managed to undo his trousers, and then there was a gasp and he was being pushed back again, only this time, Harry was also lying down next to him.

Hermione had one hand on his chest and one on Harry's, and when Draco looked down again he realized it had been Harry's trousers that were being zipped down. Hermione looked at the both of them for a second before she finished the job Harry had started with Draco's trousers, her hands brushing against his almost painful erection. Without a moment of hesitation, she was pulling down his trousers and Draco's head was spinning very fast. Harry made a sound that was almost like a laugh.

Draco turned his head to look at him, Harry's eyes were already set on Draco's face and he was smiling. "Is Hermione scaring you?" Harry whispered as he reached a hand to trail up and down Draco's chest.

In all truthfulness, she was. But Draco hadn't realized his face was giving him away, because he was also ridiculously turned on.

"No," he half-panted. "Is she scaring you?"

Harry jerked in that moment, and they both looked down to see Hermione pulling Harry's trousers down. Draco finished kicking off his own that were pooled at his ankles.

"A bit," Harry exhaled with a laugh.

Draco kissed him then, pulling Harry's face to his with one hand and relishing in the taste of his surprise, his arousal, his laughter, all the emotions that filled Harry right then.

Draco wanted to climb on top of Harry again, but judging by the shifting and shuffling that he felt around his legs, Hermione had other plans. And sure enough, a few moments later there was a small hand on his upper thigh trying to push his legs apart. Draco did as much without a second thought, and even as he continued to kiss Harry he held his breath in preparation for something unknown.

He and Harry broke apart at the same time, both looking up upon the unmistakable feeling of Hermione climbing over them. She had moved them so Draco's right leg and Harry's left were side by side and she was straddling them both at the same time, her knees brushing their groins.

"Fuck," Draco breathed out, unable to contain himself. The feeling of the soft fabric of Hermione's underwear on his upper thigh was maddening, and knowing that Harry was feeling exactly the same was almost too much to handle.

She had a hand on each of their chests, and when she started leaning forward, Harry's fingers found Draco's, intertwining together and flooding Draco's insides with a different kind of warmth.

Hermione kissed Draco first, her long hair falling like curtains over him as her tongue moved slowly against his. She placed a soft peck on his cheek before moving over to Harry, and Draco's other hand found its way to Hermione's thigh and hip, exploring up and down all the wonderful spots that he had longed to see and touch.

For a second he thought he heard words, and he took his eyes off Hermione's mesmerizing skin to look up at her and Harry. Her hair fell over Harry as it had done with him, so Draco couldn't see their faces. His stomach did a flip but not in a good way. We're they talking to each other or was it just his imagination? Did they not want him to hear? Were they talking about him?

A sick, ugly feeling was creeping up on him, reminding him of the moment he found out they had had sex. Despite being in close, blissful skin-to-skin contact with both of them, he suddenly felt oddly detached, as though he was looking at them from a great distance, and they were no longer _Harry_ and _Hermione_. They were Potter and Granger, a couple of Gryffindors, the Golden couple, a _couple_...in love.

His heart seemed to collapse within itself and it hurt.

"Draco."

His voice was spoken by two voices, and it shook him out of his thoughts. He realized his hand had dropped from Hermione's body and his other hand was slack in Harry's tight grip, and he had been quite literally looking out into space, the bright stars above suddenly coming into focus.

They were both looking at him with big, worried eyes.

And Draco saw himself in them.

But he didn't see the person he usually saw when he looked in the mirror. Perhaps he had changed since he got here, or perhaps they made him seem different. He saw someone good reflected back at him, someone content, at peace, lucky, trusting.

Cared for.

Draco bit his lip to calm himself, because otherwise his eyes would start watering at any second now and he'd be damned if he was going to be the bloke crying at the time of losing his virginity.

He tightened his grip on Harry's fingers and then reached up with his other hand to touch Hermione's cheek, trying to convey that he was fine without having to say it. She smiled weakly at him, and then she and Harry shared a quick look before she started climbing off them, promptly lying down on her side next to Draco so he was now in between the two of them. Harry rolled onto his side too, facing Draco with one hand on his chest. He kissed his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Harry whispered so low that Draco was sure Hermione couldn't hear.

Draco turned his head slightly towards him. "Yes," he replied, equally low. He couldn't bring himself to say more.

"Draco, do you want to stop?" Hermione whispered into his other ear, and Draco turned his head towards her this time.

"No." He shook his head softly.

As if on cue, Hermione nodded and put a hand on his chest, next to Harry's, and the next thing Daco knew, both hands were sliding lower and lower down his body while he was being showered with nips, licks, and kisses all over his neck and face. He was losing his mind again, all logical thought flying out and disappearing into nothingness. Why had he been worried? There could be nothing to be concerned about in the world if something could feel this good, if all his problems could be so easily wiped away by a few magical touches.

Hermione slipped her other hand into his, so he was now completely helpless, both hands clad in theirs as their free hands roamed openly over the expanse of his skin. He knew they could feel every pore, every scar, every curve and edge that composed him, and he had never felt so secure while being so exposed.

He didn't know whose fingers reached the hem of his underwear first, he had closed his eyes because the physical stimulation was already enough without having to worry about _seeing_ and becoming thoroughly overwhelmed. But they were there, grazing the fabric softly and maybe with a little insecurity. Draco's entire body was tense with anticipation, Hermione sinking her teeth carefully into the lobe of his ear while Harry sucked at a spot under his jaw.

Someone did it; someone grabbed Draco's entire length through the fabric, gripping it with a sort of hungry satisfaction that shook him to the core, and he groaned loudly, throwing his head back and exhaling in relief.

The two people at his sides made appreciative noises, their rasping breaths filling Draco's ears with even more reasons to try and hold onto his self-control.

When he tried his hardest to focus for a moment, he discovered that the hand cupping him didn't feel small, so he decided it must have been Harry's, which meant that Hermione's was the one currently attempting to pull down the hem from his right side. She certainly enjoyed removing clothes.

Draco relished in the feeling of knowing something so intimate about her.

Harry started rubbing up and down and Draco's train of thought got erased again, specially when a second later Harry was pushing his entire body against Draco's left side, his own hardness pressing into Draco's leg and seeking contact in any way.

"Harry, let go," Hermione said quietly and Draco forced his brain to come back to him again.

Hermione's thumb was hooked into the hem of Draco's underwear, but she couldn't pull them down unless Harry removed his hand, but Harry didn't seem to be understanding this. Finally, he felt the absence of Hermione's hand as she nudged Harry's away, which he did reluctantly before the two of them pulled down Draco's underwear.

He shut his eyes even tighter now, feeling himself breaking down a sweat thanks to the warm air combined with the scorching bodies at his sides.

There was a sharp intake of breath from next to him, he couldn't tell where exactly, and then he gasped loudly when someone took a hold of him. This time, he had enough reference to compare, and the hand that was around him was smaller and with a much tighter grip; this was definitely Hermione. Draco bit his lip and concentrated all his might in not getting overly excited, because he was certain that it was perfectly possible for him to come _just_ from this. He had already spent what felt like years all riled up by them, and now the direct skin-on skin touch was too extraordinary, too perfect, too much.

Hermione moved her leg to rest on top of Draco's, and then she moved her hand. It was just one slow, experimental up and down motion, but to Draco it was as if he had never experienced it before; all the sensations completely new and unheard of, and he wondered what he had been doing wrong all these years. She did it again and again, very deliberate and careful.

He could tell that both Harry and Hermione were watching Hermione's movements, because their heads weren't resting on him now and they were probably raised in rapt concentration. Draco could picture the look on their eyes following up and down and a shiver ran down his spine. Immediately after, Harry's free hand came up to his chin and made him turn his head to the right, where warm, eager lips awaited him. Draco couldn't react much right then, so he let Harry snog him without much thought about what he was doing, and it was only when he felt movement down his thigh that he realized that Harry's hand wasn't at his chin anymore and Draco's stomach dropped.

Harry ran his hand up Draco's thigh, grazing everything on its path before he covered Hermione's hand with his own. Draco couldn't take it anymore, and he moaned embarrassingly unrestrained, even breaking the kiss and opening his eyes to stare with bleak focus at Harry, who looked so turned on that he couldn't even manage the cheeky smile that Draco imagined him having.

Draco felt the pressure increase with the addition of Harry's hand and he threw his head back and closed his eyes again, biting his own tongue and praying to the stars for the power to last more than a few seconds because he never wanted this moment to end. He couldn't believe how _much_ he was feeling. It was impossible to remember a time when he had been feeling so varied and intense emotions, all at once. He just wanted to wrap Hermione and Harry around himself, let them protect him and make him feel this way forever.

"I can't believe you like me."

"I can't believe you like me."

"I can't believe you like me."

He heard the words and felt them deep in his core; knew them to be true and honest, but how had _they_ known?

It took him a while to realize that the words were coming out of him, rapid murmurs from his lips like the incantations to a spell he'd never made but desperately needed. And despite himself, he kept repeating them and felt his heart pour out with each syllable.

Two warm and heavy heads fell onto his shoulders again, and their mouths and tongues seemed as enamoured with his skin as he was with them. Draco panted, his chest rising and falling like all the suns he watched with them, like the only movement he could concentrate on right now; up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

Draco felt their hands loosening and shifting around him, and he wondered what did they have in mind that could possibly be better than what they'd been doing before.

Turns out, everything.

Their fingers intertwined, laced together in the same way his hands were with theirs, but as one they gripped Draco in between their palms and resumed their previous hypnotizing stroking that had Draco balancing on the edge of a cliff, the danger of falling more and more imminent by the second.

There were bites and licks on his chest, nibbles and mutterings in his ears, and then another, heavier leg slid on top of his, Draco's last remaining free limb, and he was completely trapped under their bodies and clemency. He could imagine the way the three of them looked from above, the way the moon might have been looking down at them, and he just had to know, had to make sure not to miss another detail of whatever he could land his eyes on because in an instant it could all be over.

Draco raised his head and then opened his eyes. It was elation as he had never seen before, so lovely and exciting that it made his chest hurt, and he could tell right then exactly how long he had to continue watching their wonderful antics on him.

One. Two. Three.

He let his head fall back onto the cushion, his hands gripping Hermione's and Harry's painfully hard, and he cried out into the noiseless night, only for them and for it; the vast ocean stretching forever in front of him, the only other witness of their strange and unforetold encounter.

Draco saw stars of all kinds, the surreal, colorful ones flashing behind his eyes, the still, quiet ones dotting the darkness above, and the moving ones shooting across the sky in graceful arches that only aided the slip of Draco's mind from reality to dream and back again.

As the mountain of sensations subsided, Draco continued to stare straight up, transfixed and completely slack, feeling as though the night was weighing him down.

He had heard many tales of losses of virginities. Crabbe's, Pansy's, Blaise's, some gruesome and explicit Death Eater's, and even more disturbingly, his father's. But he had never heard anything like this, couldn't even imagine it a few hours ago.

But he was certain that _his_ was the best of all his acquaintances and non-acquaintances, best of all the magical and Muggle worlds, best of all the lands and seven seas surrounding the living and dead alike.

With careful deliberation, their hands left him, and Draco felt Harry and Hermione rising at his sides. One moment he was admiring the dancing shower of stars, and the next he was admiring brown and green.

They were perfectly contrasted harmony embodied. So alike, yet so different. Their shining dark skin and wild hair. Brave. Beautiful.

Boy. Girl.

Day.

Night.

 ** _A/N: This is technically the last chapter BUT_** ** _I wouldn't let you all hanging like this, so there will be an epilogue. It's all planned so it shouldn't be too long now. Still, I wanted to thank you all for reading and reviewing and liking this story. It means a lot to me because this is my favourite thing I've written and it's very special, so I hope it was for you as well. I love this trio and I have a lot more of them on my tumblr so if you want to read more or talk to me about them, come say hello at amaliabones on tumblr. 3 Thank you!_**


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